1st Labyrinth
by Queen Thief
Summary: AU: When Marik's younger brother Mokuba is kidnaped by the Goblin King Bakura, he must brave the dreaded Labyrinth to save the boy. Thiefshipping:Yami Bakura x Marik Ishtar.
1. Wish

**Story name: 1****st**** Labyrinth **

**Written by: Queen Thief**

**Rating: T (Because of use of shonen-ai and mild swearing)**

**Warnings: This story contains Shonen-ai and hints of Yaoi.**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Yu-Gi-Oh or Labyrinth! This stands for all chapters!**

**This fanfic is dedicated to: Nehti, (who is another author and who actually introduced me to Bakura/Marik without realizing it. So thank you Nehti, I owe you a great deal.)**

**Hello everyone and welcome to my very first ever fanfic. This story is my own version of the movie: Labyrinth. (with a Yu-Gi-Oh twist.)**

**This is a Yami Bakura and (not the Yami) Marik romance/adventure story. **

**Note: This story takes place when Marik is twelve and Bakura is seventeen and there will be a sequel where Marik is sixteen and Bakura is still seventeen. The fact that Bakura and the other people from the Labyrinth do not age in that time will not surprise you once you read this story.**

**Enjoy the first chapter!**

_**1**__**st**__** Labyrinth…**_

**Chapter 1: Wish…**

A twelve-year-old boy sat on a bench under a tree in the middle of Domino Park, reading a small red book. He was tanned – as most Egyptians are – and possessed the most beautiful pair of amethyst eyes in the world. His long flaxen blonde hair fell over his shoulders, giving him the appearance of an angel, halo and all.

At least, that's what the snowy white barn owl sitting next to him thought.

...

"Marik! Marik, Hey there!" a boy with a New York accent called.

Marik looked up from his book to see his best friend, Joseph Wheeler, running over. Joey was also twelve, with short blonde hair and light brown eyes. Marik glanced over Joeys outfit and sighed. He always felt overdressed around the boy. Unlike Joey (who wore his usual ripped jeans, old sneakers and long white shirt with the blue '5' on it); Marik wore more 'dress-up' clothes. At that moment, over his dark jeans and shoes, he wore a brown shirt that reached his ankles with a violet star on one of the long sleeves.

"Hello Joey," Marik greeted, upon his friends arrival.

"Hey," Joey moved to sit down, but stopped suddenly. "Move it birdie."

"Don't talk to him like that Joey," Marik scolded, patting the owls head.

"Fine then," Joey sighed, then kneeled down, as if addressing a king. "May I please sit next ta my friend, your royal featheredness?"

The bird seemed to debate this before moving closer to Marik, who smirked.

"I think that's a 'no' Joey."

Joey pouted. "You ask him then. He always listens ta you."

Marik smiled and turned to the owl, who seemed to give the boy its full and undivided attention.

"Could you please let Joey sit down, my king?" Marik asked. "It would make me happy."

The bird gave the impression of consideration again before taking off, without warning, for a tree branch high above.

Anyone else would have been astounded, but this was nothing new to the two young boys. Ever since the day when that owl had landed on Marik's shoulder from out of nowhere, and only departed when Marik said something sarcastic, along the lines of "Oh, great and wise ruler of all, please _move_ your feathered _butt_!", the boys had treated the bird as if it were a king. It was childish, but it provided the two with never-ending entertainment as they kept thinking of an infinite number of ways to address their new friend.

Presently, Joey sat on the now vacated part of the bench.

"Wat'cha readin'?" he asked.

"A book," answered Marik.

"'Bout what?"

"The Labyrinth."

"What's that?"

"It's a beautiful place full of goblins, elves, fairies, beasts and knights."

"What's the plot?"

"Pardon?"

"Ya know; da story line."

"Oh! There is none."

"_Wha?_" Joey exclaimed,"That's insane. Ya _can't_ have a book without a plot!"

"Yes you can," Marik countered. "Arthur Hawkins wrote this book like a report on the place. It makes the Labyrinth seem more real."

"Can't be all that great then," Joey mused, snatching the little book from his friend and flipping through its pages.

One page stood out like a beacon.

"_Goblin King, Goblin King! Wherever you may be! Take this child of mine far away from me!" _

_This is the chant that is most well known in the Labyrinth because these are the words that call the King of the Labyrinth to your doorstep to take away an unwanted child. The baby will be brought to the Labyrinth to live as the King deems fit. If the youth is lucky, it will be made a fairy to live in the village ruled by the King's cousin. However, if the infant is __**unlucky**__ it will be turned into a goblin and live a life of imprisonment in the castle at the center of the Labyrinth with the King himself and all his goblin servants. I caution you, reader, to __**NEVER**__ say these words, for lightning will strike and thunder will roar and your wish will be fulfilled._

"So what do you think Joey?" Marik asked, startling the brown eyed boy from his trance.

"It's a little scary," Joey admitted, "but it's interestin'."

...

Marik and Joey had been talking for a long time now, all the while being watched by the mysterious owl. Joey had been in the middle of a good-natured rant about the price of ice-cream being too high when he was interrupted by the church clock in the distance striking the hour.

Seven chimes.

Marik's eyes widened.

It was seven o'clock!

He was supposed to have been home an _hour_ ago!

Joey seemed to have a very similar problem since they both jumped up simultaneously, yelled "BYE!", and ran off in different directions.

The white owl's eyes never left Marik's form.

...

Half an hour later, Marik arrived home, tired and soaking wet. It had started to rain when he about half way home and it hadn't stopped yet. The boy forced his cursing down as he saw his mother waiting for him on the veranda.

"We've all been waiting for you Marik. You're an hour and a half late!" she scolded as he walked past her and into the house.

"I'm sorry, okay!" He shouted, "I don't see why I even have to _be_ home, since Isis is the one babysitting Mokuba anyway!"

"Don't you _dare_ raise you're voice to me young man!" His mother yelled, "Isis is babysitting youboth-_Where are you going_?"

Marik was already half way up the stairs by the time his mother realized his absence.

"To my room!" He screamed at her before the sound of a door slamming shut shook the household.

...

There was a knock at the door.

"What?" Marik hissed, venom dripping in his voice, to which a melodic tone answered.

"It's me brother. May I come in?"

"Sure Isis."

The door opened and a young girl entered the room. She was fourteen years old and her features consisted of tan skin, only a shade lighter than Marik's, long raven black hair and ocean blue eyes.

"Our mother and stepfather left a little while ago because they had a dinner reservation," she said. "They really did want to see you though."

"Oh yeah!" Marik bit back sarcastically, "They practically broke down the door to give me a hug!"

There was a long pause before Marik sniffed sadly. "They didn't even say goodbye."

"Brother –"

"No!" He cut her off. "Don't you dare say it again! They constantly overlook me! And every time they do, you _always_ say _they didn't mean to_!"

"Brother –" Isis tried again, but once more Marik stopped her words.

"I said _no_!" He was in tears by now. "I'll bet they said goodbye to Mokuba, didn't they? That little _brat_!"

"Brother please calm down," she instructed, hugging him. However, he escaped her embrace and went to sit in his desk's chair.

The next comforting attempt was interrupted by the phone across the hall ringing, and Isis went to answer it, while Marik tried to listen.

"Hello?" He heard his sister greet, "Oh, hi Linda. What? ... When? … _Damn_! Okay, fine! I'll be there as soon as I can… Alright, goodbye." Isis then hung up the phone and ran down the corridor.

"Rishid! Rishid, wake up!" she called, tapping loudly on her adopted brother's door. The boy she was addressing was about eighteen, with bronzed skin, golden eyes and a long black ponytail at the back of his mostly bald head. Her parents had adopted him when they thought they couldn't have children, however when they did bare some, Rishid willingly took the role of guardian figure.

"Hello, Miss Isis." Rishid said cheerfully, opening the door, "Is everything well?"

"Actually Rishid, I need your help," she responded. "One of my friend's cars ran out of gas and now she's stuck. It's her father's Mercedes too, so calling him or a tow-truck is not optional. So could you drive me to her so I can give her some petrol, please?"

The man smiled, "Of course. I'd be glad to help."

"I'll be going too," stated a voice from behind her. There stood a boy about two years older than her, looking similar to Marik. He had long darkish blonde hair that seemed to stick up of its own accord and his skin and eye color were like Marik's, only darker shaded.

"Go back to bed Malik," she dismissed him, causing the boy to narrow his eyes.

"Don't ignore me Isis," he warned, "I'm not as kind as little Marik. You _will_ be taking me with you. Otherwise, I'll tell mother and our stupid moron of a step father that you had to sneak off yet again to help those slutty friends of yours out of another tight spot."

"Fine Malik, come then!" Isis said hastily. "I just don't have time to argue. Linda is quite a while away from here and we'll have to hurry if we want to beat mother and father home, so let's go!"

"Fine by me," Malik added arrogantly and all three turned to the direction of the stairs where Marik stood with a disappointed look covering his features.

"Don't I get a say?" he questioned.

"No," Malik answered bluntly, "Who gives a damn about you anyway?"

"Malik! Be quiet!" Isis scolded, before turning her attention to Marik, "I'm sorry little brother, but you will have to look after Mokuba until I get back, I don't want him here all alone. I'll see you when I get back and if mum rings, cover for us, ok?"

Marik wasn't even given the chance to reply, as all three of them ran past him and down the stairs.

"Marik!" He heard Isis call up to him, "Remember, don't open the door for anyone! You never know who they might be!"

The sounds audible immediately after that statement were the front door slamming and a key being turned in the lock.

...

The final and youngest member of the Ishtar family was a five year old named Mokuba. Quite docile when compared to the rest of the family, Mokuba was the only child of the unit to have an olive skin tone instead of the tanned coloring the others possessed. This was due to the fact that he was their half brother, and had therefore generally taken after his likewise pale father.

The child also possessed a wild mane of black hair and a pair of dark violet eyes, which were currently peaking around Marik's bedroom door.

On the bed lay Marik, reading his book from earlier. Ah yes, that infamous miniature burgundy colored novel; the one with its name on the front, written in shining gold embroidery for everyone to see.

_The Labyrinth..._

Mokuba wondered then, why was Marik so fond of that text anyway? Why he was at all times seen flipping though those shaded cream pages with that wistful look on his face. Surely there were other novels around the house, or at the local library even, that could be considered more interesting than what was contained between the covers of that tiny tome.

"What do you want Mokuba?" Marik asked, not bothering to lift his eyes from the page. "I'm reading right now. Go back to bed."

But the youngest of the family refused to go. He instead walked into the room, went over to and sat on Marik's bed tentatively, all the while looking at the book in Marik's hands.

"I can't sleep. I want a story," he declared and Marik rolled his eyes.

"About what?"

"What's in that book you read all the time?"

Marik grinned and without warning started his tale.

"Well, you know, there's another world other than ours. It's called the Labyrinth and fantastic creatures live there. It's also ruled by a king who…" The tanned boy stopped suddenly, thinking. Then he began again, "Who fell in love with a young boy."

Mokuba quirked an eyebrow. Even at such a young age, he could pinpoint that there was something not quite mainstream about that last sentence. However he put the thought aside and nodded for his brother to continue.

"This young boy," Marik went on, "was forever being overlooked by not only his mother and step father, but his older brothers and sister too. Also, his younger brother was treated better than he was. Even though the boy was sad about this, he endured it. Day-in and day-out until –"

"Until what?"

"Until one day, when he was tired and hurt, and he had been deserted by his entire family and forced to stay and watch over his little brother and _he could no longer stand it_."

Marik suddenly jumped off the bed and lifted Mokuba up in his arms, frightening the poor lad. "The young boy then cried out to the King of the Labyrinth; _'I can bear it no longer! Goblin King, Goblin King, wherever you may be, take this child of mine far away from me!'_"

"Ahhh!" Mokuba shrieked in terror, covering his face with both hands in fright. "Marik please, don't let him get me!"

The older boy laughed and set his little brother down.

"It's not real Mokuba," he assured the boy, "It's only in the book I read. No goblins are going to pop out and steal you away."

"Promise?" the five year old asked.

"Promise." Marik answered with certainty. He felt a little happier now that he had someone paying attention to him and actually_ wanting_his company for once. Of course, that didn't change the fact Marik was still slightly angered that Mokuba received more attention in one day than he did in – _oh, who knew how long!_

The sound of the front door downstairs being bashed open, and then hitting the wall adjacent startled both brothers momentarily.

"It must be Isis, Malik and Rishid back from their drive," Mokuba announced cheerfully "Let's go see them."

"Okay," Marik agreed, yet he couldn't help but think, 'They returned a lot sooner than I expected…'

The two children headed out the bedroom door and down the hallway. They stopped at the foot of the stairs though when they heard strange voices coming from below.

"Alright boys, we're in. First things first. You two go search around for any unwanted problems," a low ominous voice said. It obviously belonged to a man.

"Unwanted problems?" someone –another male –asked, "Like bad lighting?"

"No, you stupid dolt," the third and final guy barked. "He means we check for any people."

Footsteps were audible after that, making a path toward the stairs. Mokuba just stared at his older brother stiffly, terror written all over his features, until Marik broke from his shocked daze and whispered apprehensively, "_Go!_"

Both youngsters ran as fast and quietly as they could back up the corridor and into their parent's room. Mokuba immediately dived under the bed while Marik ran for the phone on the bedside table. The younger directed his attention to Marik as the fair haired boy cursed.

"The phone line is dead. Must be because of the storm."

"I'm scared brother!" Mokuba whimpered. "Where's Rishid?"

"Leave me alone for a second Mokuba. I have to think," he whispered. 'Okay, we have to hide-but under the bed is too obvious and so is the closet! There's nowhere left!'

The sound of rain hitting the balcony doors made Marik swear. On top of everything tonight, he also had think about Rishid driving home slower because of the slippery roads. Mokuba and Marik could be dead and the house could be completely devoid of valuables before his siblings' car even turned into the street!

Hold the phone.

_The balcony!_

Mokuba was listening to the clatter of objects falling and being moved downstairs and the closer crash of the doors on their level as they were punched in. The poor boy could picture it clearly; some huge monster of a man punching the doors in one by one, ransacking all rooms in the process, growing nearer and nearer to the two boys' temporary sanctuary by the moment.

"Mokuba, _get over here_!" Marik hissed, knocking the boy out of his contemplations. "I've got an idea. Hurry."

The younger quickly scurried out from under the bed, and joined his brother at the closed balcony door.

"What is it?"

"We're going to climb down the big tree near the balcony, okay?"

"Won't they hear if we open the balcony doors, since its raining?"

"Yes, that's why we need to do this fast."

"Hey Sid!" a muffled voice said from the corridor," I'm gonna check in here first."

"Fine, fine," another answered passively.

Inside the room, Marik gripped the handle of the balcony door. "Ready Mokuba?"

"Ready, big brother," the child gave a determined nod and Marik threw open the door.

Rain poured into their parents' room as Marik pulled his baby brother out onto the windy balcony. Also, the front door to the now soaked room flew open to reveal a very angry looking man about six feet in height with large shoulders. He ran across the room quickly and caught Marik, just as the boy managed to propel Mokuba the meters distance between the balcony and the large tree's thick branches.

"Marik!" Mokuba cried as he watched his brother fight the mammoth man who held him. He stretched his hand for the other, "C'mon brother!"

"Ow! You little fucker!" bellowed the man suddenly, releasing Marik as he did.

The Egyptian boy immediately saw his chance, and he ran for the balcony's edge and catapulted off it and onto the limb beside Mokuba.

"Go, kid!" Marik urged him and they then began move along the branch to the trunk of the tree.

"Zygor, what the hell happened?" called the other voice from earlier – Sid; a tall, scrawny looking thing with flame red hair and enormous oval shaped glasses.

The mammoth man – Zygor – shot a murderous look at Marik's retreating form.

"That little rat bit me on the hand!" he said before jumping off the balcony and on to the same thick branch the two Ishtar brothers had used prior. "But I'll get him!" The whole tree seemed to creek with Zygor's added weight as he climbed after the two brothers. Sid watched his friend grab the blonde haired child's ankle and yank him back with enough force to tear the poor kid's leg off. Unfortunately for Zygor, he didn't manage to accomplish that desired scenario. Instead, the flimsy branch holding the two siblings broke off because of the added weight and pressure and both children fell a short ways down to some of the lower tree limbs.

...

Marik's face and body was cut and bleeding, his usually bright amethyst eyes dark and wet with tears while he gripped a thin branch in his left hand and a terrified bawling Mokuba in his right. That branch was currently the only thing keeping him and his half brother from plummeting to the ground about seven meters below. And if Marik weren't currently preoccupied with the fact that he was hanging on for his life with a huge man grinning evilly down at him, he would have taken time out to curse living in such an elevated house.

The situation hit him like a ton of bricks.

This was it.

He only had two options at this point, one of which was to not let go and be captured by that Zygor guy. That wasn't much good of a selection. Alternatively though, Marik could choose to release his grip on the branch and fall to the ground where he and Mokuba could either die on impact or just get a few things broken and twisted depending on how they fell. But Zygor would jump down after them, wouldn't he? And with no energy left and as worn as both the boys were, they wouldn't be able to outrun the beast man. So it really didn't matter what the final decision was, did it? In the end the outcome was the same: both Marik and Mokuba ending up in the hands of Zygor, Sid and their boss, where they would – ultimately – be killed.

Marik glanced downward at Mokuba, whose face was in no better shape than his and who currently had his eyes sealed tight in panic as rivers of hot tears cascaded down his cheeks. Then the blonde boy glanced up to meet Zygor's ugly mug, his wide mouth stretched in a sardonic grin and his black eyes sharp as twin knives. Marik averted his gaze and spoke, "I'm sorry Mokuba. You shouldn't be here; you should be with Rishid and Isis – _safe._"

"It – It's not your f-fault big brother," Mokuba stuttered.

Marik clenched his eyes tightly to hide his tears. Yes, it was his fault, and everyone in the family was going to always see it that way; 'Mokuba _died_ because _Marik_ wasn't competent enough to _protect_ him!'

Then Marik thought of the Labyrinth – that incredibly wonderful, magical and beautiful place that he would always fanaticize about, whether or not he was even reading the book. Why couldn't it be real? He had proven it as fake when he spoke those words earlier. If it were real, than Mokuba would have disappeared when Marik wished him away. At least if that had happened, Marik could've been able to die without Mokuba suffering too. But no, Marik was going to die knowing he let his little brother down.

'I wish Mokuba wasn't here right now,' Marik thought dejectedly. 'I wish – _I wish –,_'

The boy let out a defeated sigh and opened his eyes to look down at Mokuba.

"I wish the goblins really would come and take you away… _right now_."

**Well, that's it for now. Oooh, cliffy!**

**Next time: We're off to the Labyrinth! I hope you all liked this so far, I promise it'll get better.**

**PLEASE REVIEW! It helps me update faster! Also I'm open for any suggestions for the story. Bye for now!**


	2. Into the Labyrinth

**Hi Fanfiction lovers. I'm back again with an all new chapter! First of all, I want to send a HUGE 'Thank you!' to my first ever official reviewers: ****mistress-oblivion****, ****tediz-leader**** and** **Fallon Dream. You rule! I was really worried this story would go down like a lead balloon but I was soooo happy to see people liked it!**

**I would like to apologize if this chapter isn't really good. I tried! It isn't my best work and it takes a while for Marik to get into the actual Labyrinth. But I promise, these past two chapters were only the introduction so you could get to know the characters better and see them grow instead of some little ten minute intro where all you get is (the absolutely incredible) David Bowie singing for half of it and the main character's temper tantrum for the other half. After this chapter though, it's full steam ahead!**

**So, without further ado, I present chapter two! Enjoy! **

_**1**__**st**__** Labyrinth…**_

**Chapter 2: Into the Labyrinth…**

"I wish the goblins really would come and take you away…._right now_."

Marik's words seemed to reverberate in the air, swirling in every particle of the atmosphere around him. Repeating, repeating, over and over, until the very essence of the words came to blend together, combining and changing. In the end, the only sound left was a heavenly hum, a corporeal purr that echoed in the torrents of the biting wind loud enough to shatter every one of the windows of the Ishtar house and choked the thugs Sid and Zygor like an overly sweet perfume in a tight, closed space.

However, it never affected Marik or Mokuba in such a way. They could hear the astonishing hum through the storm, but it was fainter. They could smell the sudden sweet lavender fragrance over the rains fresh scent, but it was lighter. Marik stared mutely at the two would-be thieves. Sid had fallen to the floor covering his ears, streams of sweat trickling down his forehead as he wailed, "Make it stop! _Please!_"Marik could see that he was suffocating more and more with each word.

Meanwhile, Zygor had let his grip loose on the branch beneath him to shove his meaty fingers in his ears, seeking refuge from the incessant deafening drone that assaulted him, while he held his breath as best he could to stop the thick odor from invading his nostrils. As a result of the former though, he had no foundation and found himself tipped out of the tree by the next large gust of air that came. He hit the ground and a terrible cracking sound was heard.

He had broken his right arm.

But that didn't stop him from screaming.

On the contrary, now that he had let his breathe loose, he started to howl his pain out, proving the current raging storm somewhat _mild _in comparison.

'Why is this happening?' Marik wondered, absolutely daunted by this sudden show of hysteria from the two men. 'They sound like they're in pain! But how…?'

"Marik, what's wrong?" Mokuba's frightened voice knocked him from his contemplation. "What's going on? Why are they acting that way?"

"They're being hurt, Mokuba," he said. "But we've got bigger problems right now, kid, so grab my waist and hold tight."

At the younger child's confused look, he elaborated further, "I can pull us back up onto the tree branch better with both hands."

The raven haired boy nodded in understanding and reached his free hand to loop around Marik's middle, then he quickly transferred the hand Marik gripped to loop around the young Egyptian's waist also. As soon as Marik was sure his little brother had a firm hold on his waist, his now free hand grabbed the branch above him and he began to haul the both of them up.

Suddenly, an enormous flicker of light illuminated the sky above, immediately followed by an earsplitting 'BOOM'!

'Oh my sacred Ra…' Marik went still with fear and shock, 'No wonder the storm is so bad! _It's right on top of us!_'

"Big brother, please hurry! I'm scared!" Mokuba was crying into the back of Marik's shirt.

"It's okay Mokuba!" Marik called, having thawed enough to speak again. "We'll be fine!" Though, in his mind, Marik's opinion was different. 'No, we won't be fine if we don't get back inside the house! Who knows when those thugs will recover and this tree is just one big lightening rod!'

Marik clambered as quickly as he could up onto the tree branch, where he let Mokuba slip off his back and onto the branch beside him.

"I was so afraid big brother," Mokuba confessed, sobbing loudly.

"Not now Mokuba," Marik said uncaringly, pulling the younger to start him moving. "We have to get back to the house, this tree isn't safe."

Both boys made their way along and up the swaying branches, heading to the open balcony door. When it came to it, Marik was the first to jump across the gap between the tree's limbs and the balcony. Mokuba then followed, leaping in to his brother's warm arms. Marik didn't miss a beat. No sooner was Mokuba in his arms, then he was out of them and through the still open balcony door. The five year old was lucky too. Marik doubted Mokuba would've liked to see that Sid guy still retching over the other side of the balcony.

Marik had started heading inside too when, suddenly – for a split second – he saw his own shadow for the first time that night. It was laid out on the balcony floor in front of him, as a bright, dazzling light shone from right behind his back. The amethyst eyed youngster paused a moment in mid step. A powerfully loud 'BOOM' followed the light flare without delay; it was exactly the same sound of the thunder earlier. Marik found himself unable to move, he didn't want to watch what he knew was about to happen. It was over so fast; a gut-wrenching creak of wood splitting, a 'whooshing' through the air and Zygor's ever present screams halting abruptly as the final sound was heard.

The sound of timber hitting the ground.

...

Marik shut the balcony door and then slumped beside Mokuba against it. They could still hear the storm outside, unwavering. Sid's screeching had stopped, because he had apparently chocked, suffocated and died a small while ago. Now the only unnatural sound left was that mysterious soft hum and the lavender scent it possessed. Marik didn't even know what to do at that moment. Here he was, clinging to a door, trying to catch his breath while he had a lightening struck, fallen oak tree outside with a **dead** man under it – _crushed_, another **dead** guy on the balcony, his little brother was hurt and there was also the possibility of the **dead** thugs' boss roaming around downstairs.

'Those guys are _dead_ – both of them! How'd this get so out of hand?' Marik thought, 'Tonight has been absolutely _horrible_!'

Yet, even after all that, he still thought about the Labyrinth. He thought of how what had happened so far was very similar to the story he had told Mokuba earlier.

_**Well, you know, there's another world other than ours. It's called the Labyrinth and fantastic creatures live there… **_

'I wish…' Marik thought.

"_Yes you did…_" a voice seemed to whisper in his mind. "_You wished… That is why I helped you…_"

Marik's eyes widened. Where exactly had that voice come from?

_**It's also ruled by a king who fell in love with a young boy…**_

"_That is true…_" the voice whispered again. The accent sounded slightly British, with the quality of a raspy, deep baritone. "_You have such an incredible soul…How could I resist…_?"

Marik was really starting to become afraid now. Who or what was talking to him?

Why couldn't he stop from remembering that story? And how did this being know about Marik's bedtime tale to Mokuba anyway?

_**This young boy was forever being overlooked by not only his mother and step father, but his older brothers and sister too. Also, his younger brother was treated better than he was…**_

"_I know more than you think…_" The voice gave a sinister laugh that filled Marik's mind and chilled him to the very core. "_I know that all those words…are true…_"

'No!' Marik screamed in his head, 'Get out of my mind! GO AWAY!'

_**Even though the boy was sad about this, he endured it…**_

"_However, you still didn't like it…_" the baritone spoke once again. "_Tonight…everything could change for the better…No more day-in and day-out until…_"

_**Until one day when he was tired and hurt and… **_

"_Look at yourself; you can barely stand… You're tired… You're hurt…_"

_**He had been deserted by his entire family and forced to stay and watch over his little brother and… **_

"_Everyone left you alone with your little half-brother… They didn't care about you…_"

_**He could no longer stand it**_…

"_You really can't stand the pain anymore, can you…?_"

_**The young boy then cried out to the King of the Labyrinth…**_

"_And the King of the Labyrinth answered…_"

"Marik!" Mokuba's voice rang like a bell in his ears. "Help me!"

Marik cursed himself for forgetting his currant situation and also cursed whatever that damn voice was, because now, he had a whole new problem. A tall man, rivaling – the now deceased – Zygor in height, muscles and temper stood in front of him, holding a petrified Mokuba in one large hand and a sharp looking dagger in the other.

"No! Please don't hurt him!" Marik begged, but the man only smiled cruelly.

"Bandit Keith don't take orders from no one, you little fuck," he snarled. "I can do anything I want!"

"No," a voice from behind him said, "that would be _me_."

Marik's eyes widened. The baritone from earlier!

Bandit Keith turned to face the newcomer at the bedroom's door, growling, "Who the fuck are you?"

The person he was addressing certainly didn't look the part to be spoken to in such a way. He seemed about seventeen years in age and exceptionally handsome, possessing soft pale skin and snowy white hair that fell in refined spikes down his back, ending just past his shoulder blades. He was dressed elegantly in tight light grey pants with a puffy sleeved white shirt and a taut black leather vest over it, matching his almost knee-high leather boots and gloves. A cape was hooked over his shoulders and it trailed along the ground after him as he walked forward, intensifying his regal air.

'Regal…' Marik mused, 'perhaps like… _a king_?'

"Your language is deplorable," said the man, snapping his fingers. In an instant, Mokuba was standing by his side and Bandit Keith and his knife were gone – _vanished into thin air_. The magnificent 'king' then took Mokuba's hand in his own, towing the boy to walk beside him, out from the beneath the doorframe and towards Marik. The young Egyptian still couldn't see him properly, but Marik was sure – more than sure – that there was something like glitter floating from this new stranger's form.

'Could it be… _magic?_'

'No!'Marik reprimanded himself. How could he be so absolutely stupid as to think of magic yet again, when some fantastically amazing but frightening character had his younger brother by the hand?

"You chastise yourself to much… _Marik_…" The stranger spoke as he neared the twelve year old.

"H-How do you know m-my name?" Marik stuttered "W-Who are you?"

"Someone with great power," the 'king' answered. "You should know me already. It was you who wished for help, was it not?" He was now standing directly in front of Marik, captive in hand.

"Such a gloomy atmosphere, don't you think?" the 'king' asked casually, "Not at all proper for a soul as light as yours. Why don't we change the scenery, hmm?"

Marik didn't receive a chance to question the meaning of those words, for he forgot all sense as he saw the corners of the room grow shadowy around him and a slim layer of dark purple smoke twine around the three males' legs. Slowly, slowly, the mist turned thicker and the room grew darker until Marik couldn't see anything at all…

"Marik! Big brother, help me!"

...

It was all over in the blink of an eye. Literally, and Marik was sorry he had. Blinked his eyes, that is. For when he opened them again, he was assaulted by warm afternoon sunlight. And although perfect for everyone else, for Marik – who had been in the dark for so long – it practically burned his eyes then.

Once he had gotten used to the sudden brightness though, Marik slowly let his eyes roam around his new location. What he saw astonished him beyond comparison. Before him stood the most colossal maze ever created, a tall, thick wall running all around the whole network, stone based on the outer rim, forest near the middle and right in the center stood a gigantic, extraordinary castle.

_**The Labyrinth…**_

But it couldn't be!

Could it…?

"Welcome Marik… to my kingdom…"

The young boy turned immediately to face the source of that unforeseen voice. There, resting against a thin, dried-up tree was the 'king' from earlier.

'Wait…_King?_' Marik's eyes widened. "You- your t-the King of the Labyrinth! _The Goblin King…_"

"You are most correct, Marik," said the king, detaching himself from the tree and walking over to the boy. Marik stood, motionless, as he observed the Goblin King in the soft sunshine. Marik began to notice certain things he hadn't been able to in the darkness, like the fact that the king wasn't outstandingly abnormal looking. He was average height; which meant that – because of their age – Marik's head only reached the king's stomach. The young boy also noticed that his eyes were a beautiful burgundy color, dark red with a mahogany brown tinge. The King wasn't 'buffed up' either; he was lithe, thin, yet still muscular. He may have looked like an absolute fantasy in the dark, but in the light he looked almost… _ordinary_.

"No," Marik said disappointedly, without thinking, "you can't be the Goblin King. You look to normal."

"I? _Normal_?" The king questioned, disgust evident in his tone. "You classify white hair and red eyes as normal?"

"Albinos have those characteristics," Marik countered. "The King of the Labyrinth couldn't be a human… He's all powerful. What interest would he have in humans…?" The worlds left a bitter taste in the boy's mouth.

The king raised a white eyebrow. "You want to believe I am him though, don't you? Don't lie to me Marik. Those words you spoke just now don't belong to you."

"Who do they belong to then?" Marik countered, but the king didn't falter.

"They belong to your older brother, Malik. He said them to you just yesterday morning when he saw you reading your book on the Labyrinth again."

'How did he know that?' Marik wavered. "Have you been spying on me?"

"Yes," was the honest answer. "I have controlled myself so far to be a gentleman though. I have only watched you when you've read that book. At no other times have I invaded your seclusion. It is rather a shame paper isn't water proof… I would have so liked to see you bathe."

Marik blushed at that statement. The king smirked and walked till he was right in front of the boy, then he crouched down. From such a close distance, the king looked frightening. Those eyes bore in to Marik's soul, disturbing the boy greatly.

Oh yes… There was no doubting now. This man was most definitely the almighty and notorious _King of the Labyrinth_…

It was amazing how the king could change people's opinion of him so easily, just by staring them in the eye. Marik was trembling in fear, just from that gaze alone. But that _look_ – if it could even be considered one – wasn't one of **loathing** or **despise**…

Oh no, that _look _held something in it's depths that alarmed Marik far more than mere hate could…

That _look_ held **desire**…

"You're trembling," the king observed as he tilted Marik's chin up with a gloved hand. "I have that affect on people."

"Wha-What do y-you want with m-me?" Marik stammered, but the king didn't listen. He simply sealed his lips over Marik's in a slow, passionate kiss. Marik's eyes went wide while the king's were sealed shut. The kiss was innocent, with the king just lightly running his tongue over the young Egyptian's closed lips, savoring the taste of this temporary paradise. But, alas, all good things had to end, and the kiss was no different as Marik pulled almost violently away from the king.

"Oh yuck!" Marik cried falling to his knees on the rough dusty ground. He coughed and spat, trying to stop himself from thinking about what had just occurred.

"You didn't like it?" The king was surprised.

"Eeew! No!" Marik had calmed his gagging and stood up. "Kissing is disgusting!"

"And who told you that?"

"…Malik," the child's voice was hushed and unsure.

"Your older brother truly is an ignoramus. Kissing isn't vile, Marik. It's to be enjoyed," the Goblin King explained, but Marik didn't listen.

"I want to go home," the tanned boy stated, "back to Mokuba."

The goblin king chuckled. "But he's here in this world."

"What? No, he can't be! You didn't leave him back at my house?"

"No. He's there, in my castle."

Marik turned to look at the palace in the center of the Labyrinth, 'The castle beyond the goblin city…' He turned back to face the king, "Please Mr. Goblin King, please give him back."

The king chortled again, "I do have a name you know. Bakura."

"Bakura?" Marik echoed. "Then please, Bakura, give my brother back!"

"Why?" Bakura toyed. "It was you who wished him away, after all."

Marik was taken aback by this. "But I didn't –" He stopped.

_**I wish the goblins really would come and take you away… right now…**_

"I did," he realized and quickly tried to remedy the situation, "but I didn't mean to, Mr. Bakura! I just wanted him safe! Please, you _have _to give him back!"

The white haired man folded his arms with a smirk. "What's said is said, Marik."

"No! Bring him back!" Marik yelled an instruction.

_There is one thing that all Labyrinthians know not to do. Never give the King an order. You will not fare so well if you do. _

"Don't you **dare** order me around, Marik!" Bakura snarled. "I am the King and I don't take orders from anyone else!" He then raised a gloved hand to beat the boy across the face, and Marik shut his eyes tightly, waiting for the strike.

But something made Bakura stop and lower his hand. It mortified the king to think how weak this action was.

…He couldn't hurt the boy.

"There is one way for him to go back to your world, Marik." Bakura said, making a confused Marik open his eyes. "Observe…" He then extended his hand and produced a clear crystal sphere from out of nowhere. "…I can – just as easily – make all of your dreams come true. Anything you desire will be yours. You just have to stay here with me …"

"No!" Marik answered immediately.

"Then leave the child to suffer instead!" The king's tone was harsh this time, before he let his anger subside enough to try again. "Look, Marik," he prompted. "Turn the crystal this way and gaze into it." He twirled the small sphere in his hands then tossed it to Marik, who caught it in time not to let it drop. Marik repeated the actions the king had done – although less skillfully – and then he stared into the orb's depths. He saw his whole family… apologizing to him, beckoning him into their arms, sobbing in what could only be guilt.

Marik's eyes met Bakura's and the king explained, "It shows you your dreams…"

"How do I get my brother back, Mr. Bakura?" he asked composedly. "How do he and I leave the Labyrinth safely?"

The king's fury was evident.

"Fine, Marik," he said. "I'll make you a deal. If you can reach my castle – and your little brother – within thirteen hours, I'll let you both go free."

"Really?" Marik turned to view the castle once more. "It doesn't look that far."

"It's further than you think," Bakura forewarned, "and time is short."

"What happens if I don't reach the castle in time?" Marik asked.

Bakura turned and walked away, becoming translucent as he did so. "If you are unsuccessful, your little brother will belong to me… _you know the story_…"

His voice faded away as he vanished.

...

A sleek, black BMW turned quickly into the Ishtars' street. Inside this car sat Rishid in the driver's seat with his foot ramming the pedal and Isis in the passenger's seat, crying hysterically for Rishid to go faster while he told her he was already doing 90km/h and that was well over the speed limit. In the back sat an irritated looking Malik – currently complaining that Isis was a stupid moron – and a young girl with spiked up green hair, who was tied up with ropes around her wrists and ankles.

Rishid proved he definitely could stop on a dime when he hit the brakes and the car jolted to a brain rattling halt right in front of the Ishtars' house. The storm had passed by now, so Isis had a clear view of the front door that was still ajar and the broken valuables inside the house.

"No," she gasped, jumping out of the car and breaking into a run, heading for the house. "Mokuba! Marik! Please, answer me! Tell me you're okay! _Please_!"

"Miss Isis, wait!" Rishid called in warning, sprinting after her. "It might not yet be safe to go in there! Miss Isis, wait!"

Inside the car, Malik turned to the captive girl.

"Where are my brothers?" His voice was deadly serious. The girl was afraid.

'This boy looks down right psychotic!' she thought. "How should I know what Bandit Keith did to them? I was just the decoy to get you all out of the house so they could rob the place."

The tanned boy's glare could've either melted lead or frozen the sun over. The girl felt like crying; she was so going to make Keith buy her something expensive for all this trouble!

Malik lifted his eyes from the girl to look at Rishid as the tall man opened the car door and heaved the tied up girl over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He was crying silently.

"What's the verdict?" Malik asked. "Where are mini-me and the squirt?"

"Please exit the car, master Malik. Miss Isis is phoning the police right now. Whoever has masters Marik and Mokuba must be a homicidal maniac."

"How so?" The younger boy raised a brow. "What did you find?"

"The storm must've hit hard." Rishid waited for Malik to exit the car before he locked it and started to walk toward the house, the girl over his shoulder and Malik following a step or two behind. "The oak tree round the side of the house has fallen and it looks like there's a dead man under it; big and muscular with spiked black hair."

Malik was surprised and the green haired girl gasped, "Zygor…"

Rishid continued, "There was also another dead man on the balcony. It seems like he suffocated from something. Tall and anorexic thin with red hair and glasses."

The girl gasped again. "Sid…"

"But how could little Marik ever _kill _anybody?" Malik questioned.

"I don't think it was master Marik," Rishid answered. "I think this 'Keith' person that miss Isis's ex-friend Linda kept referring too on the way here probably kidnapped both master Marik and master Mokuba and killed his own men to keep them silent."

Malik felt a small sting in his chest. So his little 'play things' were gone? _Damn!_

As they entered the house and walked into the living room, they saw Isis shouting over the phone. Rishid set the green haired girl – a.k.a., Linda – on the couch and both males took a seat on either side of her as she wriggled to try and get free.

Malik cast a look at Linda again, still angry – Not sad! Angry! He saw himself as to malicious to feel sadness – at having lost his little brothers. "I'm so glad you were dumb enough to let your plan slip."

"And I'm so glad you have a habit of storing little torture devises like _rope_ in baldy here's car boot," she bit back sarcastically.

He gave her a wicked grin that literally burned and said in an unsettling sing-song voice, "I'll get to see you executed; how fun!"

"She'll probably only be thrown on jail," Rishid commented.

"Fuck it," Malik cursed and Linda sighed in relief.

...

"Damn it!" Marik cursed as he kicked the huge stone wall again. And again. And again!

How was he supposed to beat this Labyrinth when he couldn't even find the doorway to enter it?

The tanned boy's useless assault on the wall ceased abruptly when a voice from behind him spoke.

"You know, you're going to break your foot if you keep that up."

Marik turned quickly, expecting it to be the Goblin King, but he was greeted by an entirely different face altogether…

**That ends this chapter! Oooh, another cliffy! Who could it possibly be? I hope you all liked this chapter. The next one will be better, Promise! **

**I'm hoping to get at least four reviews in response to this chapter. **

**Ahh, wishes, wishes…**


	3. Magic Dance

**Hello, it's me again, Queen Thief! Yay! This will be my THIRD chapter ever! I'm very happy at the good reviews I've been getting. You all RULE! Thank you to my reviewers, I'm happy my story is liked and I hope you'll stick with me through to the sequel.**

**By the way, if anyone didn't figure it out last chapter, when I write full sentences:**

_Like this _**Then I'm quoting a line that was in the Labyrinth book Arthur Hawkins wrote that Marik read in chapter one. **

**Also, when I write full sentences:**

_**Like this **_**it's a flashback of something that was said of done earlier in the fic.**

**Or **_"Like this" _**It's a voice in someone's head or Bakura singing and **"Like this"** is either normal talking or the goblins singing**.

**If that confuses anyone, feel free to email me and I'll explain it more clearly.**

**Another thing is that I've made Ryou look like he does in the REALLY early Japanese series because I wanted him to have as little resemblance to Bakura as possible, since the King is supposed to be special. **

_**1**__**st**__** Labyrinth…**_

**Chapter 3: Magic Dance…**

Marik turned quickly, expecting it to be the Goblin King, but he was greeted by an entirely different face altogether…

Marik guessed this new stranger must have been around eighteen years old. He was tall – nearly six foot – with well toned skin, short brown hair and sapphire blue eyes that could've frozen a man at thirty paces. The newcomer's outfit consisted of working type clothes; Faded and torn brown pants, a frayed shirt and rich dark brown work boots that had probably seen a lot of use. The strangest thing about the man though was his ears, because – unlike normal human ones – this man's ears were long and pointed at the top.

"Who asked you?" Marik bit back in response to the man's earlier words, "It's none of your business."

The blonde boy then turned back to his job of examining – a.k.a. kicking the living daylights out of – the Labyrinth's tough outer wall.

The pointy eared man gave a grunt. "Stupid mortal brat."

He then picked up some sort of spray gun from the ground and started to exterminate some rather large insects that were buzzing around.

'Wait, those aren't bugs, they're fairies!' Marik had realized this just as the man pumped the gun again and sent another little winged creature sprawling to the ground. The amethyst eyed child gasped and went to help it, but the man stopped him by grabbing his hand.

"Easy boy, the good fairies are _inside_ the Labyrinth," he cautioned. "These ones will chew your hand off."

"Oh," Marik gulped. "Okay then. Thanks for the warning." He tried to pull his hand away, but the – obviously stronger – man just led him over to a large boulder and told him to sit. Marik did as ordered while the pointy eared male walked a few paces to retrieve a pile of rags from the ground.

Upon closer inspection however, Marik saw that the pile of rags was something else entirely; a tattered old trench coat, deep purple in color, long enough to _just_ skim the floor and possessing more than a necessary amount of pockets.

'Geeze,' Marik thought as he watched the man put on the coat, 'you could hide my brother's _whole_ card collection in all those pockets and still have room left over.'

The stranger walked back over to Marik, removing an item from one of the pockets as he did so.

"Here," he said, handing the item to the boy. "As much as I hate mortals, I hate the Goblin King even more."

Marik gave him a confused look before taking the object; a handkerchief.

"Wipe it over your face," the man instructed and Marik did as told once more. When he removed the fabric from his face, he gasped at the sudden lack of pain.

He felt his face. He'd been healed! The cuts and bruises he had received from that battle with Zygor and that fall through the oak tree earlier had completely disappeared.

"T-thank you… Mr.… um… Mr.…"

"Kaiba. My name is Seto Kaiba."

'Mr. Kaiba?' Marik mused. 'It sounds too formal. I'm sure he won't mind if I call him Seto.' Then he spoke, "Well, thank you Seto. I appreciate it."

Seto seemed to choke, 'Did he just call me Seto? No one's allowed to do that!'

"Is something wrong Seto?" Marik asked.

"No, I'm fine," Seto said. What did it matter if some inconsequential mortal called him by his first name, anyway? "So you're that Marik kid, right? I heard you were coming."

"Yes, that's me," The young boy answered. "I'm Marik Ishtar from Domino, and I'm here to get my brother back."

"Well, you've got your work cut out for you," Seto informed him. "However; it's none of my business. I just wanted to see how Bakura would act when he saw you a little stronger looking the next time you both met."

Seto started to walk away, but Marik halted him.

"Wait! Tell me why you're here at least," the boy begged. "I don't know anything about you. Maybe we could even be friends. I'd like to know at least one person here who is nice."

"I am not nice, boy," Seto retorted icily. "I am also not interested in being your friend. Yet, if you must know, I'm an elf and the caretaker of the outside wall of the Labyrinth. There, happy?"

Marik's eyes lit up with joy. "Then you must know how to enter the Labyrinth!"

"Yes, I do."

"Well then, where's the door?"

"What door?"

Marik stopped for a moment to let an adorable little confused look grace his features. Was this guy serious or not? "The door to the Labyrinth."

"Yes?"

"Where is it?"

"Where is what?"

"The door!"

"What door?"

"Arrgh!" Marik yelled in frustration, "It's hopeless asking you anything!"

"Not," Seto said mysteriously, "if you ask the right questions."

Marik sighed. "How do I enter the Labyrinth?"

"Ahh, see, that's the right way." Seto grinned and pressed a stone on the wall. The whole wall then seemed to split right down the center, but Marik realized it was actually a set of well hidden doors that were now opening to reveal a dusty pathway.

Marik then walked through the large open doors, finding a high stone wall beyond them. It was slightly wet causing it to glisten in the light as thin, straggly vines creped down from over the top of the wall, some of them forming near connecting vertical lines from the wall's base to the sharp spires on its top. After taking a few more steps in to the very first part of the dreaded Labyrinth, the blonde boy looked both left and right, examining the dirty path as best he could.

To his left, Marik could see nothing but a never ending strip of the same grimy sand on which he now stood, littered with golden, glittering branches of all sizes. He also observed that the damp walls, which he was now standing between, seemed to follow the trail.

It was the exact same to his right.

"Having fun?" A voice inquired behind him.

Seto…

"Which way do I go?" Marik asked.

"How should I know?" Seto answered neutrally, making Marik growl in annoyance. He didn't have _time_ for this! He had to save Mokuba!

"Fine." Marik narrowed his eyes, showing his annoyance. "Then, which way would you go?"

"Me?" Seto asked in surprise. "I wouldn't go either way. Its plain suicide to even go as far as you've gone already."

Marik gulped. He had barely set foot in the Labyrinth, and yet, this miniscule progress was still considered dangerous…?

"If that's all the help you're going to be," he finally said, "then you can just leave."

"You're quite quick to push people away." Seto observed. "Does that mean you have no friends?"

That had caught Marik of guard.

"Of course I do!" he lied instantly. But that's exactly what it had been.

A **lie**.

He really didn't have any friends apart from Joey and that white owl from the park. However, sometimes even Joey wasn't there because he wanted to hang about his little sister. Marik could understand that. After all, siblings mostly stuck together. Well, except for the Ishtar kids. With Rishid always working, Isis going through that dreaded 'I'm in puberty, leave me alone' stage, Malik hanging with his group of soon-to-be hoodlums and Mokuba being with mum and dad constantly, Marik didn't really fit with any of his family.

The truth was… Marik was usually all alone…

That white owl from the park was the only one who really ever stuck by him constantly. Every time he read the Labyrinth book outdoors, he would always see that owl, watching him, as though trying to tell him something he had always wanted so badly to hear; 'I'll be there for you… as the world falls down…'

At present, Marik kept up the charade. "I do have friends! Tons of them! I can barely remember all there names, there's so many! Kim, Brett, Lisa, Kenneth, Tiffany, the list goes on and on! So don't you say I don't have friends cause I'll bet I have a lot more than you do!"

With that, Marik started walking left, down the sandy passageway and away from Seto. The latter sighed in agitation and backed out of the Labyrinth. He turned on his heel and pressed the button in the wall again.

Marik jumped as he heard the great stone doors slam shut. Then he frowned in apprehension. He was on his own now…

...

The jaws of Cleopatra Ishtar and her husband, Jason Trait, hit the floor as they observed the scene. Dozens of policemen, firemen and even forensic scientists flocked around the house. The firemen were mostly round the side using a fire truck and crane to lift the – once upright – oak tree from the ground, while most lab-coat wearing personnel could be found on the side balcony of the house, bent over something.

And where **weren't** the police men?

A sea of blue uniforms literally covered the house from top to bottom; talking, yelling, examining, monitoring, the list goes on…

"Come on," Jason said, grabbing his dazed wife's hand and leading her up the drive and into their house. Upon reaching the door to the dining room – which Jason literally tore off its hinges as he pulled open – he gave an almighty bellow that even had some of the firemen outside running for cover.

"**WHAT** THE **FUCKING HELL** IS GOING **ON** **HERE**?"

...

Marik ran as fast as he possibly could have, jumping over any fallen – from who knows where – branches that were in his way. On and on, but the path didn't end. He couldn't even see the finish of the torturous alley.

"What do they mean 'Labyrinth'?" he asked no one in particular as he slowed to a stop. "There aren't any turns or corners or _anything_! This just keeps going on forever!"

When he had caught his breath a little, he started to run again. He couldn't give up! He _wouldn't_ give up! He wouldn't let Mokuba down again! He had already done that once by wishing him away to the Labyrinth. No. This time, Marik was going to save him properly, with no more help from magic.

"Hello there!" called a voice, "Wait!"

Marik halted once more and turned to see a boy running toward him. He was short, with large purple eyes and a smile that was bright enough to put the sun to shame. Also, this new boy had some incredibly weird hair; blonde bangs at the front with black and red at the back.

"Hello," the boy said again, when he had caught up to Marik, "my name is Yugi. Do you need any help? You've been running for a while and I'd really like to help you if I can."

"You're very kind," Marik told Yugi. "Actually, I do need –"

"YUGI MUTOU! Get back here right now!" interrupted another voice. This new person wasn't as short as Yugi and had sky blue hair and light green eyes.

"Oh Ryou," Yugi pouted, "you're no fun."

"I'm terribly sorry young sir," Ryou apologized, "Yugi just can't help helping."

"It's all right," Marik answered. "Um... are you both elves too?"

"No," Yugi answered, "we're just humble servants of the king. Even though we don't like him."

"Yugi!" Ryou was astounded, "Don't say that! He could hear you!"

"Don't worry Ryou," Yugi advised, tugging the taller boy down to steal a kiss, "You'll protect me, won't you?"

Marik cleared his throat and both Labyrinthians diverted their gaze to him.

"Excuse me," he said, "I don't mean to interrupt but, do you know how to get to the castle at the centre of the Labyrinth?"

"No," they both said simultaneously, making Marik frown. Then Yugi piped up.

"But if you want to get on the right track, just go through that opening," he pointed to a space on the wall and Marik gave him an inquisitive look.

"But there isn't an opening."

"Sure there is!" Yugi exclaimed. Then he literally jumped _through_ the wall, causing the surface to ripple.

Marik directed his astonished gaze at Ryou, who said, "This place is full of openings, it's just that you haven't seen them. Go on, it doesn't hurt."

"Thank you." Marik said, before he leaped through the wall. He met Yugi on the other side in a maze with seven foot high stone walls and twists and turns everywhere.

"Thank you Yugi." He turned to the boy. "I'm grateful for the help."

"No problem," the short teen answered. "I hope you do well in your quest. Oh, and if you meet my older brother, please say I said 'hello', okay?"

"Promise," Marik agreed. Then he watched as the tri-haired boy jumped back through the wall.

'Well,' Marik thought, twisting to face the maze, 'here I go again…'

...

The castle at the center of the Labyrinth could have been considered a masterpiece. With its high stone walls, endless corridors and about two hundred large rooms, the castle was not only well fortified, but elegant and splendid at the same time. Of the many rooms the castle possessed, the King of the Labyrinth could usually be found in the throne room. This chamber was large enough to fit about a hundred and fifty goblins comfortably and it was designed that the actual throne sat right in the center of the room, on an elevated platform so that the king didn't have to handle the goblins from too close a distance.

At the present moment, the aforementioned Goblin King was draped across his throne sideways, with his left leg over the arm rest, his right leg planted on the floor and his right hand on the opposite arm rest holding his head up. He had ditched the cape for now and was instead favoring a long black marble cane with a small sparkling crystal on the top of it. It was this cane that he held in his free hand, tapping it incessantly on the toe of his left boot.

About one hundred goblins were running around the room; chattering, drinking alcohol, jumping hyperactively, laughing, and trying to capture any and all stray chicken pets that might have gotten loose. It was all a bit chaotic if one wasn't used to it, and it was aggravating the hell out of Bakura; hence the persistent cane tapping.

Bakura soon stopped this action though, and instead looked down at the steps leading up to the platform on which his throne sat. There he saw a small boy with unruly black hair, whose ankle was tied to his chair's leg via a steel manacle. Mokuba was crying silently, tears sliding down his cheeks and onto the floor in trickles. For anyone else, the sight would have been absolutely heartbreaking to watch. But for the Goblin King, it was just pitiful. He didn't understand how such a strong, beautiful, heavenly creature like Marik could be related to this pathetic, deplorable mess of a thing.

Then again, they did seem to share some characteristics…

They were both brave, for starters. Bakura remembered the last child he had taken from a feeble little teen boy. Both siblings had cried long and loud, like the weaklings they were. But Mokuba was strong like Marik. His tears were silent.

Both brothers also seemed to try hard not to disappoint the other. Marik was braving the Labyrinth for his younger brother while Mokuba, in return, was trying not to let Bakura have the satisfaction of knowing he was scared.

'I guess Mokuba really _does_ remind me of that babe Marik.' Bakura mused.

Mokuba glanced up to see the King watching him. Of coarse he was smart enough to know that unless a King spoke to you directly, you did not talk to them.

However, Bakura _did_ address him.

"Mokuba. That _is_ your name, isn't it?" He questioned and continued at the child's astonished nod. "You remind me of Marik. You remind me of the babe."

Most of the goblins had latched on to those words like a drowning man would a raft. The King rarely conversed with any of his captives – except to torture them with false hope, of coarse – so it was a big thing that the ever so powerful King of the Labyrinth was taking the time to talk to a _prisoner_ of all things!

"W-what?" Mokuba questioned meekly, his throat parched from crying, "What did you say?"

_Now, you must realize that all Royalty likes to (for lack of a better term) show off. The reason I tell you this is because – like all monarchs – the Goblin King likes to put on a performance to dazzle anyone watching. The King loves to watch the spectators' obvious amazement when he waves a hand and mu_s_ic appears from nowhere. His stunningly beautiful voice and his amazing dancing abilities have astounded his captives and subjects time and time again. If ever seen, his performances should be enjoyed, because he is not that high in spirit very often._

"I said," Bakura repeated, waving his hand ever so slightly and a fast yet paced beat seemed to fill the air, following this movement, "_You remind me of the babe_…"

A random goblin took its cue as Bakura descended the thrones steps.

"What babe?" It asked.

Bakura walked a few steps to face the goblin as he replied, "_The babe with the power._"

"What power?" The goblin questioned again and Bakura grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and jerked him close to answer.

"_The power of voodoo._"

"Who-do?"

"_You do._" Bakura dropped the goblin and turned, as if to walk away.

"Do what?"

The King spun quickly on his heal, grabbed the inquisitive goblin's neck and tossed him into the air.

"_Remind me of the babe_!" Bakura sang in answer as the goblin met the ground with a loud 'crash' and all the other goblins laughed loudly.

Mokuba jumped in place as the small beat around him suddenly became full fledged, fast paced music. Bakura had conjured _music_ out of _thin air_, so great was his power. The Kings voice then accompanied the composition in a song that was simply… _magical_…

Bakura started to sing, using his cane as a microphone;

"_I saw my baby,_

_Crying hard as babe could cry,_

_What could I do_?"

Mokuba was rapt by the King's divine voice. How could so evil a creature sing in melodies so sweet?

Bakura sang on as he walked to the center of the room;

"_My baby's love had gone,_

_And left my baby blue,_

_Nobody knew_!"

Then the whole room of goblins erupted into song to join their King;

"What kind of magic spell to use!"

"Slime and snails?" a short goblin asked.

"Or puppy dog's tails?" inquired another.

"Thunder or lightning?" questioned one more.

The King turned and pointed to Mokuba;

"_Then baby said_!"

Mokuba laughed and the entire room sang the chorus with Bakura as he twirled and danced around the room;

"Dance Magic,

_Dance magic, dance_,

Dance magic, dance,

_Dance magic, dance_,

Put that baby spell on me!"

Bakura then used his right foot to kick an unfortunate goblin high in the air. Some goblins had started to jump around and as they sang again, Bakura waved an arm in the air and the creatures automatically were able to leap higher.

Mokuba was having the time of his life! This was incredible fun!

The entire room's occupants sang again;

"Jump magic, jump,

_Jump magic, jump_,

Jump magic, jump,

_Jump magic, jump_,

Put that magic jump on me!"

"Slap that baby, make him free!" A squeaky sounding goblin suggested, proceeding to slap another fellow goblin to prove his point.

Bakura rolled his eyes and walked over to Mokuba, who flinched away. With a flick of the King's wrist, the chain around the child's ankle all but disintegrated into dust.

"W-why d-did you do t-that?" Mokuba asked in a scared tone.

"Join us," Bakura prompted. "Let's have some fun. After all; in exactly nine hours and twenty three minutes, you'll be mine."

With that, Bakura took the child's hand and led him to the middle of the room, amidst all the goblins laughing and calling out. One of the creatures was even lying drunk under a keg of wine, trying to push any would-be-drinkers away from _his_ stash.

The King began to sing again in that entrancing voice, this time with Mokuba dancing by his side;

"_I saw my baby,_

_Trying hard as babe could try,_

_What could I do?_"

Goblins moved all around Mokuba as he danced to Bakura's song;

"_My baby's fun had gone,_

_And left my baby blue,_

_Nobody knew_!"

Yet again, all the goblins joined in to sing with Bakura;

"What kind of magic spell to use!"

"Slime and snails?" asked a straggly looking goblin.

"Or puppy dog's tails?" One with fuzzy hair inquired.

"Thunder or lightning?" questioned a goblin woman.

Bakura pointed to Mokuba again;

"_Then baby said_!"

This time the boy gave a cheer and began to sing the chorus with everyone else;

"Dance Magic

_Dance magic, dance_,

Dance magic, dance,

_Dance magic, dance_,

Put that baby spell on me!"

Bakura picked up Mokuba then and threw him into the air. The King was surprisingly strong; he didn't even break a sweat hoisting the boy up. Mokuba had screamed at first, but when he was caught by the King again, he knew he was safe. So he started to enjoy the fun tossing game Bakura had started, as he went higher and higher into the air every time he was flung by the King.

The song continued, this time accompanied by Mokuba's laughter;

"Jump magic, jump,

_Jump magic, jump_,

Jump magic, jump,

_Jump magic, jump_,

Put that magic jump on me!"

"Slap that baby, make him free!" the entire goblin crowd shouted together.

Bakura tossed Mokuba up one final time and left a goblin guard to catch him. Once the child's feet were firmly planted on the ground again, he started to dance with Bakura once more. The King was positively radiating enjoyment and Mokuba reckoned that Marik would've loved to see his fantasy hero this way.

To bad he would never be able to…

The whole room's residents were singing and dancing, laughing and jumping. And they kept singing until the song that had seemed to appear out of the very atmosphere itself faded out…

"Dance Magic

_Dance magic, dance,_

Dance magic, dance,

_Dance magic, dance,_

Dance magic, dance,

_Dance magic, dance,_

Dance magic, dance,

_Dance magic, dance,_

Jump magic, jump,

_Jump magic, jump,_

Jump magic, jump,

_Jump magic, jump,_

Put that baby spell on me… _ooh…_"

...

Marik was totally exhausted. He had tried every trick he knew of but he just _couldn't _find a way to beat the stone maze!

His first idea was simple and basic; to use a piece of string he had found in his jeans pocket to record where he had gone by tying one end to a boulder at the beginning of the maze and letting it trail behind him as he walked. This would allow him to backtrack should he turn the wrong way and was a very good idea in theory.

However, theory apparently didn't apply in the Labyrinth, since – at one point – the actual **walls **of the maze had snapped violently together and cut the string in half!

The second idea would have also been valid if not for the trickery of the Labyrinth itself. Marik had picked up a small sand pebble and started to draw white arrows on the rock path, showing where he had been already. Unfortunately, the second the young Egyptian had turned his back, some tiny creatures living _underneath _the pathways would appear out of the ground and zap the marked stones with their hands. A little white 'poof' of dust would follow then the stone would be clear and unmarred again!

So Marik tried drawing the arrows on the walls instead.

The exact same thing happened.

Marik stopped as he realized he had turned into a dead end passageway. He tried to backtrack; only to find that the walls of the maze had once again snapped together, fencing him in.

"No!" He yelled in fright, "I'm trapped!"

Suddenly, he heard a chuckle behind him, then another, another, and _another_!

He quickly pivoted on the spot to come face to face – well, face to thighs in most cases – with four men.

One tall male stood off to the far left dressed in dark purple robes and a black half-mask.

"My name is Umbra," he smirked, while another bald guy stood to his left wearing an orange martial arts suit.

"My name is Para," he said.

The man standing to Para's left looked precisely like him, only he wore Green and introduced himself as "Dox".

The last member of the small group was, by far, the shortest and fattest of the lot. He was dresses as Umbra was, only with a white half mask.

"I am named Lumis," he spoke.

"But this was a dead end a second ago," Marik said in wonder. "This place is so fickle! How am I supposed to beat this maze if it keeps changing all the time?"

The men all laughed at the child's outburst.

"I can see why the king likes this one," Umbra said. "He's got spirit!"

"Not that bad looking either," Dox replied, eyeing Marik. "He's very tempting…"

This unwanted attention almost made Marik back away, if it weren't for the fact that these goons could possibly know a way out of the ever-changing stone maze.

Marik decided to interrupted the conversation. "Pardon, do any of you know how to solve the Labyrinth?"

"No," Lumis said, "but the only way out of this particular part of the Labyrinth is to try one of the doors behind us."

Marik glanced past the men, and indeed, there were two wooden doors carved into the stone wall, one situated directly behind Para and the other at the back of Dox.

"Yes," Umbra agreed, "But we should warn you; one door leads out of this maze and the other one leads to –"

"Bo-bo-bo-bom!" Lumis put in an undertone.

"– Certain death." Umbra finished and the other three added, "Ooooo!"

"Well, which one is which?" Marik asked, a bit afraid now.

"Uh, we can't tell you," Lumis said.

"What?" Marik asked. "Why not?"

"We don't know," Umbra answered.

"But they do," Lumis offered, pointing to Para and Dox.

Marik rolled his eyes subtly. "Then I'll ask them."

"No." The abrupt new voice startled Marik momentarily, before he realized it was Dox who was now speaking, "You can't ask us, you can only ask one of us. It's in the rules."

It was Para who next spoke; "Yes, and I should warn you that one of us _always_ tells the truth and one of us _always_ lies. That's a rule too, he always lies."

He motioned to Dox, who indignantly replied; "I do not! I tell the truth!"

"Oh, what a lie!" Para mock gasped, making Umbra smirk and Lumis have to cover his mouth to hide his obvious guffawing.

"I bet you didn't think I'd know this trick, did you?" Marik asked, wiping the smiles off every other face there."Well I do, and it ends up with you both being liars."

The child noticed the sudden paleness of the men as he walked over to Para and asked him; "Which door would you use?"

The bald man instantly knew he had been cornered, so he did the one thing he and his brother were programmed to _always_ do.

He lied.

"I would go through the door directly behind me," he answered mournfully.

"You're lying," Marik observed, "so that means that the door behind Dox is really the safe one."

At this point, said door opened, presenting a view of a long dark tunnel with – what looked like – a garden type maze at the end of it.

Marik passed the men with no problems and entered the passageway. Unfortunately, just as he hit the half-way point, Umbra zapped the tunnel floor with a wave of dark magic and a massive circle-shaped stone in the floor completely disappeared!

The stone Marik had currently been standing on.

Now having no ground to stand upon, Marik fell immediately with a short scream, down into the dark chute over which the stone had once been placed.

This chute could be described as only one thing; _absolutely filthy_.

Thousands of moldy, slime green hands protruded from the very walls of the chute, each one trying to grasp and seize Marik on his descent. About half way down the shaft, a group of hands had actually managed to clasp onto Marik firmly enough to halt his drop. The boy was absolutely disgusted as he stared at the many limbs holding his legs, arms and waist.

He was even more stunned when a set of hands formed a shape of something akin to a face and began to _talk_ to him!

"Hello," it greeted in a male voice.

"W-what _are _you?" Marik asked, pale with unease.

"Why, we're 'Helping Hands'!" it answered. "Can't you tell?"

Marik ignored the question and instead tried to loosen another hand's steel like grip on his arm.

"You're hurting me!" he whimpered.

A different set of hands created a 'face' beside the first and questioned cruelly, "Would you like us to let go?"

Marik diverted his attention from trying to pry the hand off his arm to the new 'face', alarm written over his features. He wasn't given a chance to respond though, as every hand holing him released its grip all at once and he started to fall down the chute again.

The hands' laughter accompanied Marik's screams as he fell a good way, until all sound stopped abruptly when another cluster of hands griped his arms and legs once again.

More hands then grouped together to make a face with a beak like mouth and a fist for a nose, inquiring, "Well then, which way now?"

"What do you mean?" Marik asked.

"Up or down," the face elaborated, "and choose quickly, because we haven't got all day."

Marik resisted the urge to answer 'yes you do' for fear of being dropped again.

"Well," he said finally, "I think its best I get back to the surface, so I'll choose to go up."

Collective groans could be heard from all around the shaft, along with mumbles of 'That's not fair!' and 'He was supposed to choose the _down_ option!'

One single voice caught Marik's attention though, and caused him to freeze in dread.

"Let's let him fall anyway!" it shouted. "Remember, the King said – and I quote – to 'stop the human child by whatever means necessary', so doesn't that mean we can bend the rules just this once?"

Many cheers followed that remark along with a chant; "Let, Him, Fall! Let, Him, Fall! Let, Him, Fall!"

Laughter rang out once more as the hands holding Marik loosened their grip. Marik gave a short scream as he felt gravity pull at him and he fell downwards, further and further until he felt his feet hit a solid surface for a split second. Then, even that brief support disappeared and he gave a short-lived shriek and a final cry of pain as he hit hard ground.

Dust flew everywhere, causing the boy to cough as he sat up slowly, favoring whatever new bruises he could feel forming. He heard a slamming of iron and looked upward to see that the 'solid surface' from earlier had in fact been a round metal gate implanted in the high ceiling, which had just been slammed shut. He was now in a cell with slippery, sand coated walls, cobwebs strung around everywhere, no exit to speak of and the only light coming from through the slits in the metal gate above.

Marik cursed as he heard the cackling of the hands die down slowly and he suppressed the urge to cry. However, upon closer examination of the cell, he couldn't suppress it any longer as he saw an old, decaying skeleton chained to the wall in the corner.

Only when he saw that awful thing did he truly comprehend where he was; the only place ever mentioned in the Labyrinth book by Arthur Hawkins that could possibly hold a dead body so easily.

_There is only one place in the Labyrinth that could ever hold any form of dead being. This is called an Oubliette and the Labyrinth contains many of them. These terrible chambers are dungeons where the king will send any soul unlucky enough to defy him. Take care, reader, to avoid these cells at all costs, for their only purpose is one to be greatly wary of. The lone intention of the dreaded Oubliette is to have everyone forget its occupants ever existed. It is where unwanted people are sent to forget all about them._

"I'm in an Oubliette," Marik cried, tears running down his cheeks and splashing on the dirty floor. "Now I'll never be able to save Mokuba! I'll die here all alone and no one will ever even notice I'm gone!"

Suddenly, over his crying, Marik heard a sound.

It was the sound of a stone being knocked loose.

'Someone else is down here!' he thought in joy, wiping his tears away. 'Someone came to save me!'

Marik then called out, "Hello! Who's there? I'm sorry, but I can't see to well in this darkness! Please, where are you?"

A man then stepped out of a shadowed crevice. Marik saw that the new male was tall with short hair.

"Seto!" Marik called in delight, "Is that you? Thank Ra you're here!"

The stranger then brandished a knife in his right hand and said in a voice low and ominous; "You're the little fuck from earlier, aren't you?"

Marik felt heart lurch. "B-Bandit K-Keith?"

The man stepped further into the light, revealing his insanity filled eyes and foaming mouth, as he lifted the knife higher into the air and positively growled his next few words.

"This time… I'll kill you."

**Let's end the chapter here. Does this ending even classify as a cliffhanger?**

**Whoa! That was soooooo hard to write! I had the movie in front of me, taking notes and everything!**

**I hope no one minded that song in here. This is the most challenging (and longest) chapter I've written so far, so please review and tell me if you liked it! Sorry it took so long to update; it was a long weekend.**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Please review if you did!**


	4. Beware

**Hello all Fanfiction lovers! It's Queen Thief, back once more with a new chapter. **

**Thank you to all my reviewers so far, I'm very happy that my story is liked! **

**Well, this chapter is mostly character development, character introduction and a little action.**

**Okay, another warning; this is the chapter where I start introducing things that weren't in the original Labyrinth, like new characters. Please don't hate me! I'm only doing it because it fit's the story line and sequel.**

**I'd like to give a special SHOUT OUT to my friend Emily on whom I've based the new character. You go Fly Girl!**

_**1**__**st**__** Labyrinth…**_

**Chapter 4: Beware…**

"_This time…I'll kill you._"

"Master?" a soft girl's voice asked from the side of the throne, echoing in the vast throne room, which was now empty except for her, two other beings and the King. Said King refused to turn his attention away from the crystal in his palm. In it was reflected the most soul chilling scene that he could have ever hoped _not_ to see. A huge madness-plagued man leaning over Marik – _His_ Marik! _His_ angel! _His_ _love_! – with a knife sharp enough to carve up a plank of wood in hand.

...

Marik lowered his gaze to look upon the grimy floor of the Oubliette. He was scared. He was absolutely petrified at the very thought of what could happen next. Keith had him backed into a corner, and even if his voice would've unfrozen at that moment – even if he _could've_ controlled his fear long enough to cry for help – no one would hear him…

Marik's mind was awhirl; was he actually going to die_ now_? After having braved so many perils – both in the Labyrinth and his _own home_ – was he really going to die in such a deplorable way as to be murdered out of _spite_, by an insane male, in a place where only the most utterly _unwanted_ people were meant to be?

Furthermore, what was to become of Mokuba if Marik were to perish? Would the King show mercy for once and turn him into a fairy… or would the child be made a _goblin…_?

'No!' Marik's mind shouted, 'I can't die! I've come too far to be defeated _now_! I have to save Mokuba! I _refuse_ to let him down!'

"I can't let you hurt me," Marik whispered. "I have to save my little brother…"

Keith gave out a mocking bark laugh and drawled on in his lunacy, "I won't hurt you! I'll kill you! Kill you 'till your dead, dead, dead!"

"I can't be hurt," Marik repeated, voice increasing in confidence. "I have to save Mokuba!"

Marik lifted his gaze to Keith's face.

...

The woman standing beside the King's throne gasped as she caught sight of what was shown in Bakura's crystal. That young boy… Marik… he was _extraordinary_…

His eyes shone with a determination she'd never seen before. Conviction and commitment were literally written in the depths of those amethyst jewels, shining radiantly for all to see. The devotion this child seemed to posses for his brother was positively _uncanny_.

But the confident faith he was showing right at that moment was even more astonishing…

...

To say that Bandit Keith was surprised when Marik launched at him would've been an immense understatement. The kid had literally launched at him, making them both crash to the floor, and was now trying to take hold of the knife in his hand. Keith pushed Marik away, but the boy just clung to the knife more fiercely.

"What the fuck?" Keith snarled, "Stupid little–!"

Marik's back hit the floor hard and he gave out a pained cry. Not a second later, Bandit Keith was kneeling over him, eyes glinting in psychotic amusement. The bandit then swung the knife – point first – in one sleek shining ark towards Marik's chest and the child shut his eyes tightly, praying his death would be quick and painless.

...

"Let go of my wrist Gozaburo!" Bakura shouted frantically. "Marik's going to be–!"

...

The pain never came.

Marik still kept his eyes closed forcefully… _but the pain never came_.

Instead he felt the ground shake slightly as something heavy hit the floor next to him. He chanced fate and slowly opened his eyes to see Bandit Keith face down on the grimy floor to his left with what appeared to be a dagger protruding from his back.

"K-Keith?" Marik was still shaken from previously. "Bandit–"

"Don't bother," a voice cut him off. "He's dead."

A silhouette of a man emerged from the shadows behind the fallen male and Marik felt as though things were _finally_ starting to get better for him.

...

"How **dare** you!" Bakura more demanded than asked as he ripped his arm away from the man who held his wrist. "I am the King! How _dare_ you touch me, you pathetic _worm_ of a thing!"

The man he was addressing had been his royal advisor since he first took the throne at the age of twelve. Gozaburo Kaiba was around fifty years old, possessing beady black eyes, gray greasy hair and a mustache to match. He was mean, deceitful, corrupt and willing to go to any lengths necessary to get what he wanted, making him the absolute perfect right hand man for an evil king.

Bakura never trusted him though, as Gozaburo wasn't one to heavily base your reliance on. The man was too obsessed with trying to run the Labyrinth better and Bakura wagered that if he were to relinquish control to Gozaburo that the whole Labyrinth would suffer. That fact scared Bakura, since he _was_ an evil King and hence wasn't supposed to care for his subjects. So then why had he been so nice as of late? First he had saved Marik, next was the fact that he was unable to hurt the child or let him be harmed by anyone else and now he was actually worried for the safety of the people he reined over!

"You're Majesty," Gozaburo attempted to placate the King, "I was merely stopping you from making a fool of yourself."

Bakura stared "A… fool…?"

"Yes my King," the elder male answered, "If you'd have saved that child via magic, then you would've shown great weakness. A kind of flaw unbefitting for a cruel King such as yourself, I assure you."

Bakura was shocked. Him? Showing weakness?

"Very well Gozaburo," the King said in a warning tone. "You are forgiven this time. However, in future, I suggest you think well before touching me again. You are dismissed."

"Yes sire," the man answered. He bowed and walked away down one of the long corridors adjoining to the throne room.

"Master…?" That word woke Bakura from his angered trance.

It was the soft girlish tone from prior who had spoken.

The King turned to face a young woman of fifteen with bird-like claws for hands and feet. She had long red streaked dark brown hair which was held in a high ponytail and eyes a brownish-green color. On her back was also a pair of large bluish-white wings to match the tight sparkling blue knee-length dress she wore. Her name was Emily Ioakire, but she also possessed a multitude of additional names given to her by other Labyrinthians. Such titles included: Gozaburo's apprentice, the Charmer, the King's right hand freak, Harpy Lady, Fly Girl and – last of all – the King's admirer. The latter name having been given to her by everyone in the kingdom for one simple reason alone; she was desperately in love with Bakura and he was the only individual who didn't know it.

"Master…?" she inquired again. "You're Majesty?"

This time Bakura answered.

"I really don't like him," he said, walking back to his throne and sitting down, "But he hasn't done anything exceedingly bad, past getting on my nerves, so I suppose it's well enough to trust him for the moment."

The King then extended his hand a produced another crystal sphere, the first one having fallen and shattered when he stood abruptly to yell at Gozaburo. Emily looked into it to see the boy from earlier standing in the oubliette talking to someone.

"Marik is incredible," she mused. "I mean; he actually _fought_ that Bandit guy!"

She gazed down to the foot of Bakura's throne where Marik's younger brother Mokuba had been sleeping the whole time, his leg still chained to it.

"And to think," she continued, "all that trouble for this little scamp."

...

"You can't!" Marik shouted again at the male in front of him. However Seto Kaiba remained as impassive as ever.

"I have absolute strict orders from the King to escort you back to the beginning of the Labyrinth," he said. "As much as I hate the King; even I have to obey him."

"You can't be serious!" Marik yelled. "I did not come all this way just to start over again!"

"I don't care–" Seto had started to say, but he was cut off by Marik.

"No! I have to save my brother and I refuse to play chess piece to some deranged king whom I used to actually like!"

...

Both Emily and Bakura's eyes widened.

'Did I hear that right?' they thought in unison.

...

Seto was stunned. Had he heard that correct?

"What did you say?" he questioned Marik.

"That I refuse to be controlled by the king," the boy answered.

"No. Not that. The other bit," Seto pressed. "The part about liking the king."

"Oh, that. I always liked the king of the Labyrinth whenever I'd read about him," Marik admitted. "I wanted to meet him so badly and I'd fantasize what he'd look and sound like all the time. And now that I've met him…"

Seto couldn't help the question presenting itself from his lips, "So… what do you think of him?"

Marik smiled, "I'll tell you if you help me get out of here and don't take me back to the start."

Seto cursed, "Ackiana!" **[A/N: See notes at end of chapter for translation.]**

"What?" the boy questioned. "It's a fair trade. Please Seto… I really need your help… please just take me to the surface and then I'll do the rest on my own. I didn't even want to come down here; it was the fault of those stupid Hands!"

Seto felt his resolve weakening. Should he actually help the boy…?

The elf decided to weigh his options: On one hand, he could help Marik get back to the surface and learn exactly what Marik thought of the king, but then he'd have to deal with the monarch himself for his insolence.

Seto shuddered. That idea certainly had its bad points.

On the other hand; he could decide _not_to help the boy. Seto knew that he would be safe from the King's wrath should he select that choice.

Yet, that would mean Marik would fail his quest…

Seto turned his attention back to Marik to see the child holding something gold.

An armlet.

"Where'd you get that?" he asked.

"I've had it hooked to my belt since this morning." Marik answered. "My mother gave it to me for my birthday. It's supposed to go on your upper arm and its part of a set, but the rest are at home. It doesn't fit me now, but it might when I get older… or… or I could give it too you as… as payment for helping me now…"

The elf was stunned. Marik was that worried about his brother that he'd loose something so valuable?

"Its real gold," Marik continued. "My family is rich so…"

Seto understood that Marik never really meant to finish that sentence. This child… he was too fantastic to be a human! He performed such selfless acts and he had no clue of it.

So the elf Seto made up his mind.

"As soon as we reach the surface you're on your own," he said and Marik literally jumped for joy.

"Oh thank you!" the blonde yelled, hugging him.

Seto stood frozen at the show of kindness.

'What in the name of the king is this child doing?' he wondered, 'Is this some form of expressing gratitude?'

Marik, noticing the lack of response from the elf, looked up.

"It's called a hug," the Egyptian boy explained. "I don't get many but at least I know what they are. Haven't you ever been hugged before?"

"No." Seto shook his head in a negative. "My 'father' isn't the type to hug."

"What about your mother?"

"…I don't have one."

Marik really felt bad now. All those times he had cried because his mother didn't hug him often enough when Seto didn't even _have_ a mother to begin with. Marik couldn't believe how self-centered he'd been…

"Why are you crying?" Seto asked. "Its okay. I never really knew her anyway."

Marik cried harder, "I've been so selfish!"

"No you haven't," the elf assured him before straitening up, "Well then, let's go. There's no more time for this pathetic mush. You wanted to save that little brat brother of your's right?"

"Here," Marik wiped his tears away and pushed the armlet he'd been holding into Seto's hands. It was a little too small to fit on the elf's upper arm, so he snapped it on his forearm instead.

"I'll give it back someday," the elf said without thinking, then he mentally berated himself; 'I only really want this thing as an excuse to see this boy again… What is wrong with me? Where has the old, cruel, **smart** Seto Kaiba gone? This boy has been incredibly nice to me and I should be laughing at him for it! So then _why_ do I find myself _returning_ this compassion?'

Seto sighed, "Let's get going, Kiddo."

He then walked over to a piece of cloth lying on the floor in the far corner, near the skeleton Marik noticed earlier. He lifted the rag up and tossed it over the decaying bones mumbling; "Hold that for me."

The elf then took something from the floor which had previously been concealed under the material; an old wooden plank about the Marik's general size. He dragged it over to the left side of the cell and literally pushed it _into_ the wall. It seemed to fall right through, creating a portal through the wall. Seto then ducked through the opening, followed by Marik, who was mumbling; "Doesn't anyone in the Labyrinth use _doors_ at all?"

A large stone tunnel was where they ended up. As Seto and Marik started to walk, faces that had been carved into the walls began to speak to them, each one reciting their own warning phrase;

"Don't go on!"  
"Go back while you still can!"  
"This is **not** the way!"

"Take heed and go no further!"

"Beware, _Beware_!"

"Soon it will be too late!"

Marik looked at Seto with a slightly worried look and the elf figured he should reassure the boy.

"Pay no attention to them, Kiddo," he said. "They're false alarms. You get a lot of them in the Labyrinth, especially when you're on the right track."

"Oh no, you're not!" warned a stone face from the side, just as the two males reached a long arch-shaped bricked tunnel strung with cobwebs.

"Oh, shut up," Seto retorted, waving a hand in dismissal as he eyed the tunnel both ways.

"Looks like a cleaner tunnel," he mused, hearing the false alarm's indignant voice saying something about 'just doing his job right'.

The elf didn't worry too much about it as he started to walk down the tunnel's right passageway.

"Sorry," Marik apologized to the stone. "We're on a mission so we really don't have time to listen to alarms."

"Oh, what a nice boy," The rock mused. "It's okay. I hope you are successful in your expedition."

"Thank you," Marik said and gave a winning smile before running after Seto.

...

Marik didn't even look at the ground as he walked; he just gazed up at the ceiling of the tunnel. There seemed to be a line carved in the roof, as if something was made to travel down the passageway. That lack of caution as to where he was walking was the reason for him falling right into the lap of someone who sat cross-legged in the middle of the path. The young boy quickly lifted himself from the person's lap, finding that it wasn't a person at all, but an aged goblin beggar with a shadowed face, a scruffy green hat and a tattered old cloak to cover himself. In his hand he held a small chipped mug with a few rusty coins inside of it, which clanked around when he shifted.

"Well, what have we here?" the goblin asked in a crackly high voice. "A beautiful young boy…"

Seto shivered. Something about this new creature just didn't seem right. This goblin gave him a feeling that only the king's presence ever appeared to invoke before; **Fear…**

"I'm so sorry," Marik apologized. "I didn't mean to fall on you. Are you okay?"

The goblin gave a hearty chuckle, "Such a polite young thing! You don't have to apologize to me child, I'm quite alright…"

"Don't stop Marik," Seto warned. "Let's just keep walking. I think trusting this goblin is a bad idea."

"Well then!" the goblin exclaimed. "An _elf_! What a surprise! What business could an _elf_ possibly have down here? Perhaps orders from the king, hmm?"

Seto felt a chill run through him.

"Such an attractive child…" the goblin turned to Marik, taking advantage of the elf's lack of speech. "A perfect match for someone of royal caliber… someone handsome… perchance maybe… a king?"

Seto quickly hauled Marik to his feet. "We're leaving, kid!"

"What have we here?" the goblin mused, standing up. "A love affair? For shame…"

"It's nothing for you to concern yourself about," Seto defended, pulling Marik behind himself to shield the boy.

"Nothing…?" the goblin asked, his voice having dropped an octave or two as he let his grip loose on the chipped cup he held. The mug instantly fell to the floor, shattering loudly and letting the coins it held go flying off in different directions; forgotten.

**Now** Marik knew something was wrong, for no beggar – human or goblin – would ever be so careless with their money.

The goblin's hand went to his cloak as he repeated his question again, this time in a voice that was all too familiar to Marik's ears; "Nothing?"

Suddenly the goblin pulled his cloak and the rest of his disguise off and discarded it all to the side. Seto tensed and Marik gasped at the individual whom they both now recognized.

Smooth pale skin, long silver-white hair and deep crimson eyes that Marik felt he could drown in were they not so frozen over with hate and cruelty.

The King of the Labyrinth stood before them, a smirk on his face as he stared at Seto and Marik.

"You're Majesty," Seto was the first to speak, his words accompanied by a humble bow.

"Hello Setlist," Bakura greeted nonchalantly.

"Seto," the elf corrected him.

"Whatever," the King answered as he walked around Seto to see Marik looking fearfully up at him.

"Please my King," Seto tried to reallocate himself in front of Marik again, "Leave the boy alone. The Labyrinth is hard enough for him to conquer without your interference."

"Don't talk down to me you stupid elf," Bakura cautioned. "I do not take orders from anyone. Now do shift your _useless_ carcass **out** of the way before I decide to relocate it myself."

When Marik saw that Seto had no intention of moving, he feared for the man's health and decided to save him as best he could.

"It's alright Seto. You can move aside," Marik told his guide. "Mr. Bakura wouldn't hurt me."

Seto staggered. 'Is this child crazy? 'Mr. Bakura' could rip a full grown Cyclops in half just by glaring at it! I should know! I've seen it happen!'

The king smirked at Seto.

"You've heard the boy, Setlist," he said. "_Move_."

Seto did as he was told.

Bakura approached Marik and kneeled down to speak to him.

"You have done exceptionally well so far, my love."

Seto's eyes widened; Love? Had the king actually just said that?

'But it can't be!' he thought. The king: in love? Impossible! He's incapable of it! He's never even uttered an emotional word in his life!' Seto turned to look at the king once more. 'So then, why is he acting this way now? What will toying around with Marik's mind accomplish? Why can't he just let the kid alone?'

"I'm not your love," Marik answered Bakura. "And if you're not going to give my brother back to me now, then go away so that I can rescue him myself."

Seto saw Bakura wince, as if he'd been hit. Could it be that Marik's words had hurt him? No. That was too far-fetched an idea for even Seto's mind to comprehend. The ever powerful King of the Labyrinth, having been emotionally wounded by the words of a child? Ha, yeah right! That'd be the day.

"Seto," Bakura's cold voice woke the elf from his trance as a slap would wake a sleeping baby. It seemed as though the King had found a new target for the moment, someone he _could_ control.

"Could it be that you have been helping Marik?" Bakura asked, standing and walking over to the elf.

"Helping?" Seto echoed. "In what sense?"

Bakura had to hand it to that man; he hid his fear very well. But the king could see he was scared by the way he'd steal almost inconspicuous glances at Marik, as if worried of Bakura snatching the boy away at any possible lull.

Bakura reached out to clasp Seto's chin in a vice-like grip, answering, "In the sense that you are leading him towards the castle."

The King released his grip on the male's chin and proceeded to wipe his gloved hand on the side of his pants, as if just touching the elf had caused a multitude of grime to rub off onto his glove.

Seto ignored the implied visual insult and held back his fear once more to lean in close to the King and whisper, "I wasn't really you're Majesty. I told the child I was going to lead him to the castle – a little trickery on my part – when in actuality; I'm leading him back to the beginning of the Labyrinth."

"_What_?" Marik yelled.

"Hmm, I see," Bakura mused. Then his eyes narrowed and he grabbed Seto by the collar of his shirt and jerked him close to whisper in the elf's ear so that not even Marik could hear his words.

"Know this you pathetic waste of flesh; I am aware of what you have done so far for that child and your meddling had better stop, before I decide to tip you straight into the Bog of Eternal Stench. I've also seen the way you look at him, protective and doting, and I don't like it one bit. You are on my _last_ nerves right now, elf, so heed my warning; **don't** try to push your luck any further or you will regret it _immensely_."

The King tossed Seto with uncanny strength into the wall, as though he were disposing of an unwanted robe instead of a living being. Bakura turned his attention to Marik then.

"And how are you enjoying my Labyrinth, Marik?" His voice had unexpectedly grown frigid and Seto truly felt a tint of ease come over him; for this was the King he had known all his life and was therefore more accustomed to dealing with.

"It's not easy," Marik admitted, "but I'll beat it."

Seto gasped, 'No!'

Bakura raised a snowy white brow, "Really? Well then, How about upping the stakes if you're so confident?"

The King pointed to a place on the side of the tunnel and a wooden framed clock appeared magically, showing that the time was about forty minutes past four o'clock. With a wave of his arm, Bakura managed to make the timepiece's hands wind ever so slowly forward until the time became ten minutes past eight.

"That's not fair!" Marik shouted, making Bakura chuckle.

"You're so humble, Marik. I'm surprised those words have ever even made it past your lips," he mused.

Seto was positively seething; 'How dare he cheat Marik out of time! Wait… since when did I care?'

Bakura had conjured up another crystal sphere in his hand. He looked behind him; down the tunnel path from whence Marik and Seto had come and gave a dark chortle that raised the hairs on the back of the elf's neck.

"So you believe the Labyrinth is 'beatable', hmm?" the king asked, twirling the crystal in his hands. "Well I wonder If I could change your mind on that…"

Suddenly, the crystal was out of Bakura's hands and bouncing down the long tunnel into the darkness.

Marik stood shocked as he watched the bauble bounce away, clinking sweetly whenever it contacted with the ground.

"Why'd you throw it away, Mr. Bakura?" he questioned. "It's too pretty to just be tossed about!"

However the King wasn't with them anymore. He had vanished into thin air, taking the wooden clock that was located on the wall with him.

"That's strange," Marik mused. "Why'd just leave so suddenly?"

Seto didn't answer. That was when Marik realized that Seto basically hadn't even said anything since he had told the king about taking Marik back to the beginning of the Labyrinth. That thought made Marik mad, because he had actually trusted Seto enough to think the elf had been telling him the truth. But Marik decided talking about that little deception could wait. He had to see if Seto was alright first, before he could focus on anything else.

"Seto?" The boy turned to face the elf, to find him standing up from his previous place on the ground where Bakura had thrown him.

"I'm fine Marik," he answered, "I just…"

Marik gave the elf an odd look. Why had Seto just stopped in mid sentence? It didn't seem like him.

"Seto?" he inquired again. The elf was now looking behind Marik, eyes wide and sweating.

"We have to run, Marik," Seto said, low and hastily. "_Now_, **move**!"

The elf then grabbed the child's hand and began to pull him down the right passageway of the tunnel again.

"Seto, please slow down!" Marik panted as he ran. "You're hurting my arm! What's the matter with you?"

"It's gaining on us!" the elf answered back. "An elf's hearing is twice as good as a human's. We can hear double the distance away. That's why you can't hear it!"

Marik felt as though someone had dumped a bucket of freezing cold water over him.

'Gaining on us?' he wondered, feeling his legs automatically start to run faster as he called aloud. "What is it that's behind us Seto?"

"A monstrosity called the Cleaner!" the elf answered and Marik automatically knew they were in a lot more trouble than he had previously thought. Seto didn't know, but Marik was fully aware of what the 'Cleaner' was, thanks to Arthur Hawkins and the book he had written.

_The Cleaner; a steel device manufactured to cleanse all underground passages in the Labyrinth of dirt such as soil and cobwebs. It is designed with a cone shape at the front covered with a multitude of rotating claws. These claws are what clear away the cobwebs, while the fact that the machine is designed specially to fit the tunnels leaves no room for any large soil clumps to slip by. Slits in the floor and ceiling are what holds the object on course while two or more goblins peddle it forward from behind. Beware readers, not to underestimate the destructive force of this machine. If working at top notch, this contraption could tear even an iron gate to shreds._

Marik and Seto ran quickly through the tunnel and, after a few more seconds, Marik was finally able to hear the low, nerve-racking rumbling echoing behind them that Seto had already taken notice of. Still they ran.

"Ah!" Marik gasped as he slipped, and Seto quickly backtracked and hauled the young boy to his feet.

"Don't pause for breath, Kiddo!" He warned as they began to run again. "It's a lot closer than you think!"

'I wish we didn't have to run anymore,' Marik thought, feeling as though his legs would surely break if they continued to run to any further extent. 'I'm so exhausted!'

You should always be careful what you wish for. Marik soon discovered that he had, once again, taken this warning to lightly when he collided suddenly with Seto's back.

"Ouch," he whimpered. "Seto? Why'd you stop? That thing is right behind us!"

That was when he saw that the reason the elf had stopped was because the entire tunnel passage onward was blocked.

A bulky iron gate, secured with thick, heavy, metallic chains and a large hefty lock, cut short any hope of further passage for the two. They were trapped.

Seto turned, hearing the ever present rumbling in the tunnel grow louder, and both he and Marik watched, transfixed, as a gleam of metal became visible and a massive machine emerged from the far shadows of the passageway. Sharp claws spun around rapidly on its front and Marik felt his breath catch.

The Cleaner…

The boy turned, hearing a clanking and rattling of iron behind him. Seto had begun to pull at the steel gate, cursing when he cut his hands on any stray pieces of rusted metal. Marik couldn't help but marvel at the accuracy of Arthur Hawkins, whom had written about the Cleaner's fantastic ability to pulverize a solid steel gate – _this_ gate that they were now facing – into absolutely fine powder.

Marik thought of what a sick irony it was that his fate would be to die by the Cleaner's destructive force, when his fragile body probably wouldn't even be a worthy obstacle for the blasted thing.

'At least Seto's here,' Marik thought with a sigh. "At least this time… I won't be afraid of dieing all alone…'

**I guess that isn't really a good cliffhanger is it? I'll try to make a better one next time. **

**TRANSLATION: Ackiana is my own word that I've made up. I say it all the time instead of swearing and it doesn't really mean anything, except for being a substitute for the word 'fuck'. So I thought, why not have it as a Labyrinthian swear word? It's pronounced Ack-ie-ah-nah. It sometime will appear as 'Kiana' and this is the shorter version of it.**

**I'm sorry about the new character Emily and the royal advisor Gozaburo. I know they weren't really in the movie but they fit the plot in my fanfic. **

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Also, check out my other story I've posted up. It's a cute little Yami Bakura/Marik one-shot called 'Moonlight Night'.**

**Please Review!**


	5. Words of Wisdom

**Hello again to everyone reading this story. It is I, Queen Thief, with another chapter for you all. **

**Now I must thank my reviewers, for this story wouldn't have even gotten of the ground without you all. So THANK YOU to ****yukina ukieashie, Oneos Pitri and mistress-oblivion and sunset-reloaded and misy and tediz-leader and Fallon Dream.**

**I'd like to send special thanks to ****Oneos Pitri**** who has been very impatient about this chapter. So as a thanks for her wonderful incite, advise, interest and eagerness about this fanfic, I'm dedicating this chapter to her. It's not much but I hope it makes her happy. Thank you again ****Oneos Pitri!**

**Well then, I think I've taken long enough with the introduction, so let's get into it already.**

_**1**__**st**__** Labyrinth…**_

**Chapter 5: Words of Wisdom…**

'At least Seto's here,' Marik thought with a sigh, 'At least this time… I won't be afraid of dying all alone…'

"Ackiana!" Seto cursed as he shook the heavy metal gate on its strong hinges, "The Cleaner, the Bog of Stench, you **sure** got his attention, Marik!"

Marik didn't reply to that. He had zoned out. He was going to die. This time there really was no escape option.

"I let Mokuba down." He whispered, "I'm going to die."

"Would you stop feeling sorry for yourself, kid," Seto grunted, still tugging at the iron, "We've got to get out of here."

Marik didn't hear the elf. He just kept his head down, gazing vaguely at the dirty stone floor.

That's when he noticed it. A small square-shaped plank of wood propped up against the wall. He turned quickly to see the cleaner gaining ground swiftly, before running the couple of steps and kneeling next to the plank.

'What the…?' The boy gasped as he felt around the edges, 'Its part of the wall!' He tapped the center of it and rejoiced at the hollow sound that followed, "Hollow too!"

"Huh?" Seto asked, now giving an effort to pick the padlock on the gate, "What's hollow?"

Seto drew his attention from his task to see that Marik had finally gotten over his miniature-depression stage and was now going through –what the elf deemed as –a miniature-insanity stage, as the boy was trying to actually _push the wall down_.

"Seto," Marik urged as he pushed against the wood again, "Help me here."

When the elf realized what Marik was really up too, he was at the boy's side instantaneously, kneeling next to him and throwing his weight at the timber also.

Marik could see the cleaner was uncomfortably close to himself and Seto now; Less than a dozen meters and closing fast.

They pressed against the lumber piece –

-and the cleaner moved nearer.

They pushed –

-and the machine came closer still!

Then there was a sudden creaking, and Seto and Marik both fell forward as the strong wooden board in the wall broke at its edges. The passage behind it was a small box shape the size of a coffin, with a dead end facing them only a few feat away. Seto felt his heart sink at the thought of the passages intended use. Someone was to avoid the cleaner by crawling in there and waiting for the machine to pass, then edge out and backtrack the way from which the contraption had come.

Marik gazed at Seto with a look that clearly read; 'What do we do?'

The young Egyptian was thoroughly startled when he was shoved into the small stone enclosure.

"Seto-" he tried to yell, but found that the elf had placed the wooden plank in front of the little passage, boarding it up again. Seto held the timber firmly in place, so that Marik was trapped definitely in the space. The cleaner was practically right on top of him now and the boy's cries were barely audible through the wood, over the noise.

"Seto!" he was hearing, "Seto! No! Let me out! I don't want you to die! PLEASE! SETO, LET ME OUT! I'LL DIE INSTEAD! PLEASE DON'T DO THIS! SETO! _SETO_!"

The words seemed to echo in the elf's mind…

"_**Seto! C'mon, big brother! Let's Play!"**_

He felt his eyes start to water. He was going to die. Why couldn't he have just minded his _own_ business and left that Marik kid alone in the first place?

"_**Big brother, where are you going? Seto, wait! DON'T LEAVE!"**_

"Adina…" The name was barely audible above the drone of the looming Cleaner.

"_**When will I see you again…?"**_

"_SETO, PLEASE LISTEN TO ME_!"

"_**Goodbye big brother… I love you…"**_

"_SETO_! SETO! PLEASE LISTEN! THERE'S A TUNNEL IN HERE!"

The elf suddenly started, as if from a dream. A tunnel…?

Seto quickly threw the timber plank from his hands and dived into the small enclosure, _just_ as the cleaner went roaring past. He heard the sound of steel meeting iron and knew instantly that the gate from earlier had now met with the cleaners powerful claws.

There was a moment of dead silence after that as the blue eyed teen listened to the sounds of the Cleaner fading into the distance. His breathing was heavy, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

"Seto…?"

The man turned to meet a pair of inquisitive eyes, just centimeters from his own. Beautiful, light yet dark amethyst gems that seemed to give an unearthly luminosity to the otherwise inky blackness around him.

And he couldn't stop himself from leaning forward… closer… closer… to taste the seemingly soft, sweet lips in front of him that he **knew** accompanied those gorgeous eyes.

"Seto…?" Marik whispered again, knocking the elf from his daze, "Are you okay?"

The man quickly regained his senses.

"I'm fine Marik," he answered, "How are we both able to fit in here?"

Marik then shuffled backwards and seemed to disappear into the floor, but the elf soon saw that it was merely a tight chute that extended both down into the very center of the earth and up to –hopefully –daylight.

An old wooden ladder reached across the left side of the shaft and Seto grabbed onto that and pulled his body into an upright position.

"Up or down. Which way, Marik?" Seto grinned, posing a rhetorical question, looking over his shoulder, down at the boy clasping the ladder below him.

Marik gave him a weary look, "You're not like those 'Helping Hand' things, are you?"

Seto gave a small smile, "No," and began to climb up the ladder, with Marik following after.

...

"Eight hours and thirty minutes." Malik mused, eyeing the grandfather clock in the corner as he sat on the arm of the living room couch, "That's how long mini-me and the squirt have been missing, and we have no idea where this Keith guy is at all."

"Don't be so negative, Malik!" Isis scolded him from her place by the kitchen door, "We will find them."  
"I doubt it," the boy answered, "Even the Chief of Police was at a loss for words when he arrived. Nothing makes sense. Why would that guy kidnap Marik and Mokuba anyway?"

Isis didn't answer. She was two preoccupied in listening to the conversation in the kitchen between her mother, step-father and Theodore Muldrow, who was the Chief of Police. It had been this way for hours; non stop talking about how there was absolutely no evidence whatsoever to say that the bandit Keith Howard had ever been there in the first place, let alone kidnapped two boys from said location.

It was officially a lost cause. Bandit Keith could not be found and neither could Marik or Mokuba. There was nothing the police department could do.

"Oh, my brothers," Isis wept softly, "Please be okay."

"The young masters will be safe, miss Isis," Rishid tried to comfort, leading the raven haired girl over to the couch and sitting her down, "I'm sure of it."

"I hope you're right, Rishid," she wiped her tears pointlessly, "Dear Ra, I hope you're right."

...

"Seto, was what you said true," Marik asked, "to the King, about leading me back to the beginning of the Labyrinth?"

The dark haired elf kept climbing the ladder, only momentarily looking down at the human boy.

"Of coarse not," He replied, "I just said that to the King to mislead him. Our agreement still stands. I am taking you to the surface and you will make your own way from there."

"Oh," Marik breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank Ra. For a second, I was really worried. I mean I don't usually trust people that easily in the first place, but how can I not after you saved my life?"

Seto paused with a gasp, "I what?"

"You saved my life." Marik elaborated, "You shoved me out of the Cleaner's path and left yourself to die instead."

"I was always brought up caring for someone younger than myself, Kiddo." Seto admitted, "After a while, you don't even realize any protective actions anymore. They're automatic. So don't think I saved you because I liked you or anything, because that is outlandishly far from the truth."

"Oh… okay then." Marik fought back tears; of course Seto didn't really care for him. No one did...

Silence reigned as the continued climbing the ladder. Thick, heavy, suffocating silence that could've been sliced open with a knife, so corporeal it was.

"Seto," Marik's voice was soft, "can you tell me about the Goblin King?"

"What would you like to know?" the elf asked in return.

"What... um... well... How'd he become King anyway if no one likes him?" Marik finally decided on his question.

"That's easy enough to answer," Seto mused, "He inherited the title from his father, who was the King of the Labyrinth before him. Such a kind man, our old King was. A gentler soul, you've never met. But he left the Labyrinth not long ago. He went to live in your world –the human world –because he fell in love with some beautiful woman."

"Really?" Marik asked, "But what about Bakura's mother?"

"She died when he was born Marik," Seto replied, "Bakura never even knew his mother…"

"Oh… that's so sad…"

"Now, you'll answer a question for me." Seto announced, "Why do you have those scars under your eyes?"

"What?" Marik bit his lip, "Oh... those. Well, you see, my mother told me that I came out of her tummy weirdly, and because of how she was shaped, I got these two identical scars below my eyes."

"Fair enough." Seto nodded, "If it helps, they really suit your face, Kiddo."

"Thank you." Marik smiled, before posing another question, "Hey Seto… How long has Bakura been the King of the Labyrinth?"

"Hmm…" Seto debated, "Well, Bakura became King long before his father left for the human realm… he was about twelve; your age. But Bakura wanted everyone in the Labyrinth to live longer, so he cast a spell to make everyone and everything in the Labyrinth age very slowly."

"How slowly?"

"It has taken Bakura five thousand years to age from twelve to seventeen."

"A year a millennium!"

"Yes," Seto finalized, "And if you were to stay in the Labyrinth from now on, it would affect you too. In a thousand years time, you'd look thirteen."

"What if I left, but then came back in a year and stayed?"

"Then in a thousand years, you'd look fourteen. It affects all beings in the Labyrinth from their currant age onward."

"Wow…" Marik breathed, "So the previous King is still in the human word then?"

"Yes, he is, but considering he looked about thirty when he left, and that he left quite a few years ago, he has to look at least sixty now."

...

"How **dare** that fool tell Marik about _my_ past?" Bakura growled against the pillow. He had retreated from the throne room and into his bedroom for the time being, and was now laying prone on the soft, king-sized canopy bed, gazing at a crystal on the wooden side table to the bed's right.

The room was incredibly outsized, decked out in gold accompanied by assorted jewels –from diamonds to sapphires to rubies. Light blue silk was what the drawn back curtains of the bad were made from, and the plush red carpets lining the stone floor were woven from only the most exclusive cotton.

Aside from the King of the Labyrinth, another person happened to be occupying the room. Emily shivered and turned her face from the sight of her master and king resting on the bed like that. Oh, the things that man did to her emotionally. All those stories of butterflies in a person's stomach whenever their love would look their way were all too painfully true to the young harpy. Just a simple everyday glance from the Goblin King could set her heart aflame and enrapture her in a deep whirlpool of emotion… but seeing him this way –so deliciously and tantalizingly positioned on that bed –was too hard to resist.

"Emily?" Bakura's voice and a gentle touch awoke the girl from her trance. The King was now at her side, tilting her chin up to have their eye's meet.

"Yes master?" the girl felt herself drowning in those sinfully divine eyes. Only a little more… All she had to do was lean forward that minuscule distance more and her lips could meet his… just a little more…

"I gave you an order." Bakura's voice was unemotional and the tone brought the Harpy Lady back to awareness, somewhat.

"What… order…?" She tried –as much as she was able –to close that horrible distance between her mouth and the King's, but it seemed that Bakura had long since had enough of her aloofness, for she found herself thrown backwards only seconds later. She hit the floor with a dull 'thud' and her hand immediately flew up to her cheek to encompass the dark bruise that began to form where Bakura had hit her.

"Stupid weakling…" the King mumbled, stalking back to his bed and sitting on it, "I gave you an order to go and put something more alluring on."

Emily's eyes widened. The King wanted her to dress more appealing? Did that mean that he was actually thinking…?

"You mean," she slowly got to her feat, "You want me to dress for seduction?"

Bakura grinned, "Finally, you understand my meaning." He then patted the space on the bed beside him, urging her to sit. Emily complied wholeheartedly, not believing that the King was actually saying what he was.

"Something black maybe," he mused, reaching to pull the left strap of her dress from her shoulder, "and off the shoulders since that always seems to drive men wild."

"Whatever you wish, my master," She felt tears of happiness forming in her eyes, "my Bakura."

The hand at her shoulder stilled abruptly and she gave out a small gasp, realizing her error. Oh no, what had she done? Those words were practically _forbidden_! Nobody ever spoke the King's name directly to him! No Labyrinthian ever even wanted to say it in the privacy of their own homes, let alone to the sovereign himself! Worse still; she had placed the word "my" in front of it! A word of claim! A word of control! A word of _OWNERSHIP_!

…And **no one** owned Bakura.

...

"I can see light!" Seto called down to Marik as he glimpsed minute beams of light shining from above. The slight beams appeared to be from small arched slits not far above the ascending duo. No doubt, there was a trap door or manhole cover that they were to encounter soon. Seto felt a sigh escape his lips at the realization of finally reaching the surface again.

"So Marik," he decided to learn more about the young boy with him, while he had the chance, "Tell me about yourself."

Marik looked up in surprise, Seto wanted to know about his life? Well, that was alright. "Okay, Seto. I was born in Egypt in Cairo and now I live in a large town called 'Domino' in North America. My father… um, passed away when I was little and now I have a step-father."

"Really?" Seto wanted to hear more. He usually hated hearing about others lives since he had his own problems to deal with, but when it came to Marik… he couldn't help but want to know more in depth about the lad. "Tell me more."

"Well… my mom and sister hang out a lot. Girl stuff, I guess. Also, I have two older brothers and my best friend is Joey Wheeler."

"Joey Wheeler?" Seto scoffed, "Sound's like a dog's name."

Marik giggled, "Actually Seto, I think you'd really like him if you two ever met."

The brunet gave a mocking chuckle, "I don't think so. A mutt and myself as friends? You must be joking."

Marik laughed quietly and Seto felt a twinge of happiness at the fact that he had been able to draw such a beautiful sound from the child, but then he realized the grin on his face and immediately diverted his thoughts. Marik was a human. Nothing more. Why should Seto even waste his time on such a pathetic little monstrosity, let alone help it and try to amuse it?

No. The elf had to be as distant as possible from this little boy. Otherwise his father –or worse, the King –might sense that Seto had obtained something that he had made himself loathe over the centuries; a weakness.

Marik sensed the sudden unfriendly air that surrounded the dark haired elf and cleared his throat uncomfortably. How could Seto do that? How could the man laugh and joke one minute so naturally, then become so secluded and detached the next? It was too confusing to think of. Luckily though, Marik was saved from any further discomfort as he heard a creaking noise from above and was assaulted by blinding white light.

Seto pushed open the rusty metal hatch with his right hand, letting it fall to the floor with a loud 'clunk' type noise. The elf then planted his palms on the ground both sides of the shaft's exit and hoisted himself out of the tight chute and fully into the sunshine. Next, Seto reached back down into the hollow and helped Marik to climb out also.

Marik smiled upon feeling the rays of the sun beat down on him once again. He had always loved the sun, and being down so low under the ground had been a horrible experience for him. However, there was no time to take note of how good the warm gentle breeze felt as it blew through the strands of his golden hair again, or how blessing the sun's light felt as it caressed his skin once more. Now, there was no time to waste as he realized that the underground detour took more time than it should have, not even including how the King had subtracted from his thirteen given hours. Marik looked towards the castle and his eyes narrowed.

'Don't worry Mokuba,' his mind called to his little brother, 'I'm finally out of those horrible underground tunnels and I'm coming to rescue you.'

...

Emily had heard all the noise and talk from Marik and Seto through the crystal ball on the table behind her and the King, but she dared not move a muscle to view the escape that said human and elf had made from underground. Her gaze was locked on her lap and had been so for some time now. Since her blunder, the King had not moved or spoken at all. Bakura –whether oblivious of it or not –had even denied her the sole comfort of removing his had from her shoulder.

"Emily…" The voice was low and deadly, making the girl quake in fear. Here it was. The moment of truth. The end of her life; killed at the hand of the one she adored more than life itself.

"Yes m-master…?" She managed to ask, cursing herself for stuttering.

"I want you to repeat **exactly** what you uttered earlier." Bakura ordered, "Speak loudly and clearly and so-help-you it had better not include what I think it will."

The girl gulped down some much needed air and spoke, "I said… I said that I would… do whatever… you wish, sire and… my master… and… my…"

"_Hold it there kiddo_," the sudden voice of Seto Kaiba cut in through the crystal on the side table, "_We had a deal, remember? I help you to exit the Oubliette and you tell me your opinion on the Goblin King. A bargain is a bargain._"

Marik's voice was next, admitting words that Emily herself could never own up to, "_I like him. There, I said it. He may have taken my brother, but if he didn't, then I wouldn't even be here and I never would've met you, Seto. I don't know how I'm going to feel about him if I don't get my brother back, but right now… I still sort of like him_."

"_You've got to be joking_." Seto's voice dripped with shock.

"_I'm not_." Marik's tone was definite and it absolutely sickened Emily to the core. How dare that little rat of a human steal Bakura's attention away from her? The young woman raised her gaze to the King for the first time in a while and found his attention exclusively focused on the crystal over his shoulder.

"Bakura?" Emily didn't even care now that she was defying the rule of not addressing royalty directly. Bakura was supposed to be hers and hers alone! He wasn't meant to fall for some pathetic, weak human out of nowhere when she had been after his attention for a good millennium or three now. It wasn't fair.

"Emily," the King answered, not removing his gaze from the crystal, "Marik still likes that impetuous, foolhardy elf Seto and that… I don't like. Now, for the last time, I'm ordering you to go put something attractive on and set out to seduce that difficult fool."

"You… want me to seduce Seto?" Emily felt tears paneling at her lower lashes. So Bakura just wanted her for his plan then?  
"Yes," the King arose from the bed and walked over to take the crystal in his outstretched palm. "Once that elf is out of the way… Marik won't have anyone else but me left to turn to. They're about to go their separate ways… and you shall strike as soon as they do."

Emily stood and made her way out the door, calling back a hasty "Yes master" before she left.

...

"Well, hello there!" cooed a voice from off to the side, and both Marik and Seto turned sharply to see who was summoning them. A short old man sat not too far off from them, wearing trailing brown robes and a wide grin just as easily. He sat in a large chair shaped from oversized books that looked very out of place in the maze of tall green hedges that surrounded them all. A young boy around Marik's age had also perched himself upon the chairs left arm. He had short aqua colored hair, long pointed ears, eyes of jade and was wearing a white dress suit with violet embroidery.

"Yoo-hoo!" called the boy.

"Oh no," Marik heard Seto mumble as he started to walk over. When both of them made it over to the old man, he smiled.

"Well! If it isn't Seto Kaiba! How are you boy?" he gave a laugh, "And who be this stunning cutie you have with you?"

"Um… Hello," Marik greeted, "My name is Marik Ishtar."

The aged man nodded, "I'm Solomon Mutou. Pleased to meet you."

"Woo-woo-woo!" The green haired lad looked Marik over, "Tell me Seto; how'd _you_ ever land a catch like him, hmm?"

"Shut it Noah!" Seto growled.  
"Ooh, temper, temper, dear brother," the boy scolded with a smirk before turning to address Marik, "Incidentally hot-stuff, my name's Noah Kaiba. I'm Mr. Mutou's apprentice and Seto's little brother."

"_Step_-Brother," The elf corrected.

Noah waved a hand in riddance of the fact, "Whatever."

Solomon rolled his eyes at the brothers' antics. Those two just never learned!

"Mr. Mutou?" Marik's voice held a hopeful hue, "um… I was wondering… do you know the way to the castle at the center of the Labyrinth?"

"Yes child," the elderly man replied, "I do. So do Noah and Seto. However, we are forbidden to tell."

"But… why?" Marik asked.

Solomon leaned in close to the boy and dropped his voice to a whisper, "We are forbidden. We have all been exiled from the castle for one reason or another and have had a spell placed upon us so that we are unable to reveal the correct path to the castle to anyone. I'm sorry young one. I wish I could help."

Marik sighed, "Its okay. At least I know you'd help me if you were able to."

The old man tried to lighten the boy's spirit, "I have some words of wisdom for you, though. These words help many. Maybe they will help you too."

"Sure," Marik said, giving a smile, "Anything helps."

Solomon closed his eyes and uttered the simple phrase, "Friendship, forgiveness and love can conquer…"

Marik urged him on, "What? What do they conquer?"

"That," the elder opened his eyes and smiled, "Is what you have to figure out. It varies from person to person… but its components never change…"

"Aye," Noah sighed, now having stopped arguing with Seto, "Will you listen to this crap the old geezer loves to spin."

"BE QUIET!" Solomon yelled at him.

"Jeez! All right!" Noah put his hands up in defense.

"ALL RIGHT!"

"OKAY!"

"OKAY!"

"_ALL RIGHT_!"

"…All right."

Seto shook his head, "Oh for the love of... I'm leaving."

As soon as those words were spoken, Marik's attention was caught.

"Wait," he grabbed a fistful of Seto's purple trench coat to halt the man, "Will I… see you again? Cause, just so you know… I think of you as my friend, and I want to see you again before I leave, if I'm able to."

Solomon raised both his eyebrows and Noah's jaw went slack in surprise. This boy actually _enjoyed_ Seto's company? How was that possible?

Seto seemed to be thinking along the same lines as he stared at Marik with his eyes slightly wide and his lips a tad loose. Had Marik truly said the word "friend" in reference to him? Yes, he had, and that was dangerous. Seto couldn't afford to have friends. His step-father Gozaburo could punish him for becoming 'distracted' from his assigned duties as caretaker. Or worse still, Bakura could come after him on the grounds of being closer to Marik than allowed. Yet still, Marik had bestowed a word of trust and compassion upon him. Seto had never had the privilege to be called by that designation before. The whole concept of 'friendship' was very new and alien to him. So, in the end, was it a good thing or a bad thing that… he liked the title.

The elf blinked slowly, returning to the present moment to answer Marik lingering question, "I don't know whether or not we will meet again, Kiddo. However, I hope we will. I'm leaving now, though."

"I understand," Marik answered, releasing his hold on the elf's coat, "Thanks for all your help, Seto."

The elf nodded and walked away down one of the many paths made by the green hedges. He seemed to know where he was going –back to the beginning of the Labyrinth, no doubt.

It was then Marik's turn to leave.

"Goodbye, Noah!" he called back to the two on the chair as he started to run down a different path from Seto's, "Goodbye, Mr. Mutou! Thanks for all your help!"

Noah watched the young boy as Marik turned his full attention forwards and kept running deeper into the topiary maze.

"That boy is incredible, isn't he Solomon?" the green haired youth cast a gaze at the old man only to find him fast asleep, "Uh!" Noah gasped sarcastically, "Its just _so_ riveting being your apprentice!"

...

Marik paused his running momentarily to catch his breath. He was now deeply situated in the garden maze with nothing but thin, twisting vines and leaves all around him. He fought back the small twinge of loneliness that had twined itself around his heart momentarily. Seto wasn't there now and Marik was truly on his own once more. But that was acceptable. He could get along fine with no one he knew present. After all, he'd been mostly friendless for years now. This was no different.

A deep, pained howl heaved Marik out of his musing forcefully. He jumped in surprised, then quickly gathered his wits and scanned the area for the source of the noise.

The howl continued, becoming more suffering ridden by the moment. Marik couldn't stand it. He hated to see anything in pain, whether it be a dog, cat, human or whatever was making that sound. He spied a small gap at the bottom of one of the hedges and he sprinted over to it. 'Whatever is making that noise,' he thought as he reached the space and knelt down, 'is on the other side of this opening.'

Marik got to his hands and knees and looked through the hole to see a small alcove of stone and a large, brown bag suspended from an oak tree by a thick rope and being jolted around by the captive inside of it. Whatever was in that sack seemed to be the cause of the lamentation and Marik felt his heart sink at the cruelty it must have taken to put the poor unknown individual there in the first place.

The blond boy then summoned up his courage and started to crawl through the hole, eager to help the creature in the bag. He had barely made it fully through when he felt two pairs of strong arms grab him and haul him to his feet and a gruesome face shoved into his line of vision.

"Well then," the new person mused, "What have we here…?"

**Well, that's chapter five done! If you enjoyed it than please review! It would make me very happy!**

**Just a few notes now: 1. I have based this fanfic mostly on the dub since that's the only Yu-Gi-Oh that plays in Australia. The only reason I haven't used Isis and Rishid's dub names (Ishizu and Odion) is because I thought the un-dubbed names suited them more in this fic. 2. Also, the reason I have said that Domino is in North America is that in one episode of the dub, when Isis (Ishizu) gets off the plane at Domino's airport, some guy says "Welcome to America, miss Ishtar" or something close to it. Therefore the dub is set in America. Okay, now that that's over I will say goodbye.**

**Next chapter: Ooh, a new person! **

**Please Review!**


	6. Good Luck

**Hi, it's Queen Thief again with another chapter of my master story, "1****st**** Labyrinth"! **

**Thank you to all those who have reviewed so far. I'm happy to see some new reviewers and even happier to see that some old reviewers haven't given up on this yet! **

**Nothing much more to say than that I'm sorry I made you wait for this chapter so long. School is a pain, plus I had some trouble with how to keep it all linked together right. This is my longest (and hopefully best) chapter yet, so I hope you all enjoy it.**

_**1**__**st**__** Labyrinth…**_

**Chapter 6: Good Luck…**

"Well then," the new person mused, "What have we here…?"

"Who are you?" Marik's question was hasty from fright, "Let me go! Please!"

The howling sounding from the suspended bag halted at the new voice in the vicinity as the man in front of Marik drew a cigar into his mouth and mumbled, "The name's Crump. My friends and I own this small space of land here."

A tall fellow with rectangle glasses spoke up next, "Yes, and you, young sir, just happen to be trespassing." He waved his hand in a posh manner to rid the air of the smoke from Crump's cigar, "By the way, I go by the name of Johnson."

A large guy with a beard was next to speak up, "Yeah kid! We're the Big Five! I'm Lector, and over there's Nesbitt and Gansley!"

"And you might be?" the old man known as Gansley stepped forward, questioning.

Marik tried not to let his uneasiness show, "My name is Marik Ishtar, sir."

Five pairs of eyebrows rose simultaneously. Marik Ishtar? The same boy who'd caused such a hullabaloo throughout the Labyrinth?

"Well, what a prize we seem to have caught," Nesbitt leered with a grin, "aye boys?"

"Yes my friend," Johnson answered, "He'll make an excellent addition to our collection."

"Collection?" Marik echoed, "No! What are you going to do?"

"Relax dear boy," cooed Johnson, "We won't do anything bad, we are men of business after all… _Shady business_, that is."

Marik bit his lip in apprehension, 'Seto, where are you when I really need you?'

...

A large black Magpie with blue tipped wing feathers glided through the sky fluently. Many people would not think this strange, however to a trained eye it could be seen that this Magpie was no ordinary bird.

Emily Ioakire relished the feeling of the atmosphere shifting around her and the air gliding over and though her spread wings, ruffling them calmingly. It was times like these that Emily was glad she was given the ability to transform into a bird at will. Most Labyrinthians believed that the only individuals able to do this were the Goblin King and his cousin, the Queen of the fairies. But no, Emily also possessed this wonderful gift.

The golden, pink and purple tinted blue sky rose all around her, and she thought that were she not colored as black as the dusk, it would encompass her completely. Oh what a thought, too be hidden from the eyes of the king. She could circle around the one she loved all day long, stealing many a kiss with him being none-the-wiser.

Her fantasy followed her until she suddenly reared back in the air, only a few meters above the ground. Her feathers then started to disappear, evaporating into the air as her straggly crow body grew and changed to the shape of a full-figured woman once again. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, her green smudged brown eyes scanning the dusty clearing she stood at the center of.

"Well, look here," a voice mused from behind her, "If it isn't the King's admirer. Out for a light stroll, are we?"

Emily stifled her initial reaction to jump before regaining her composure and placing a calm, secretive smile on her lips.

It was with this forged confident and care-free air about her that she turned to face her addresser.

"Why, Seto Kaiba…" She eyed him like a cat eyes a bird that it plans to bring down from a tree, "How are you my old friend? I just dropped by to tell you that your King and your stepfather both send their love."

Seto's face remained as unreadable as ever, even though he felt something of a bad taste in his mouth from those untrue words. Of course there was no doubting they were untrue. The King couldn't have cared if he was alive, dead or worse and he certainly would never send his love to anyone, let alone an outcast elf with an attitude problem and a reputation for being disobedient to those higher up in status than himself. As for his step father Gozaburo, it was that heartless man who had Seto exiled from the castle in the first place… but he shouldn't remember that now. After all, the past was over and done with. Still though, Seto wondered what everything would be like if the old king were still here. Seto could remember the first day he had ever come to the castle and seen Bakura's father. How nice the old king had been! Ackiana, he could still remember everything as clear as if every detail were written on paper in front of him…

"_**You're kidding."**_

_**That had been Seto Kaiba's first initial reaction when his stepfather had dragged him to the throne room to see the prince of the Labyrinth for the very first time. The words had just slipped out of his mouth involuntarily when he saw Bakura. Seto was thirteen about then and seeing another boy his own age being bowed to and doted upon was quite a shock. **_

"_**Well look! Gozaburo's here and he's brought his children!" The previous King had smiled broadly, white teeth sparkling as he ran a hand through his shiny blond hair mechanically, "Bakura! Mai! Come meet the new royal advisor!"**_

_**Seto watched the two children in the corner, who had been previously talking, now lift their heads to look at the King. From what Seto remembered hearing through the grape vine, Bakura was the King's only son, the prince of the Labyrinth. He was quite a nice looking boy, around twelve years old with short, slightly spiked white hair that just reached his shoulders, pale skin and crimson colored eyes. His companion was -if Seto was correct- Mai Valentine, the daughter of the King's sister and her husband, both of which had packed up and moved to a far off corner of the realm in which the Labyrinth resided when their daughter was born. Mai was very pretty, possessing long blond hair that reached the center of her back, a fair complexion, lilac eyes and a delicate pair of dark purple see-through leaf-shaped fairy wings on her back. She was wearing a frilled light blue dress that day, while Bakura wore black pants and a short sleeved, white, airy top. **_

_**They both approached Gozaburo as if he was an invader in their territory. Steady, calm, but not hesitant or afraid at all. **_

_**The new advisor bowed low, "Prince Bakura and Princess Mai. I am much honored to meet you both."**_

_**Seto and the royals all locked gazes then, and the young elf was glad to see that these two were smart enough not to fall to his step father's trickery. However the King seemed to buy the act hook, line and sinker. **_

"_**We have waited your arrival for some time Gozaburo." He said, "Who are these young tikes you've brought with you?"**_

_**Seto felt a hard push on his back and he was thrust in front of his step father. Seto's younger sister Adina hit his side soon after, also having been pushed subtly by the tyrant standing over them. Next was Gozaburo's real blood son. His name was Noah and he was looking back at his father, obviously expecting to be beaten if he didn't move fast enough. **_

"_**These are your new servants," Gozaburo had said, "Noah, Seto and the whiny little five-year old is Adina."**_

"_**Servants!" the King laughed, "Ah, what a jest you make my new friend! These youngsters will live like royalty here!"**_

_**While an agitated look was worming itself onto Gozaburo's face, the Princess had made her way over to Adina's side. **_

"_**Don't cry," Mai whispered, "Everything's gonna be okay, you'll see. Would you like a present?" **_

_**Adina looked up blinking away her tears and running her hands through her semi-long raven black hair, slightly fiddling with one of her pointed ears, so much like her brothers. Mai smiled as she realized Adina's eyes were the same color as hers. **_

"_**Present?" the little elf girl looked up expectantly, "Yes please…"**_

_**Mai's smile grew larger and she cupped her hands together, whispering words to soft for anyone to hear as sparkles of magic flowed from her palms and around Adina. Seto watched, transfixed, as a pair of wings appeared on his little sister's back. They looked exactly as Mai's did; only they were lighter in color. **_

"_**There!" Mai clapped her hands in self-satisfaction, "Now you're a fairy too!" Seto remembered Mai giving Adina flying lessons for the whole rest of that day, while the King showed Gozaburo around and Noah and he ventured off to their new rooms. They had never heard the Prince utter a word that day.**_

"Are you thinking about that boy again…?" Emily's voice knocked Seto out of his thoughts. Seto almost cursed out loud that he had zoned out so unexpectedly.

"No." He replied harshly, "Just thinking about the past, which is stupid because it's dead and berried and there's nothing you can do to change any of it."

Emily shook her head, "No, I suppose not. Otherwise I would have tried to stop Bakura from becoming so... heartless…"

Seto looked up in question, then frowned spitefully, "Oh yes, I forgot that you were there the day this entire muddle started up. It was a good five millenniums ago, after the previous king went away to another part of this realm for a while. Bakura came into power at twelve years of age, just soon after my arrival, and with the former king out of the picture, my stepfather was trying to worm his way up the social ladder."

Emily nodded, "I remember…"

"_**I'm going on a trip Bakura!"**_

"_**What...? What do you mean father? Where are you going…?"**_

"_**I don't know, but I just feel like if I don't travel and leave this castle for a while, I'm going to go crazy!"**_

"_**But, you have to run the Labyrinth! What will happen if you leave us all?" **_

"_**You are going to run the Labyrinth from now on my son. I'll be back to visit every few years and Gozaburo will guide you. You'll do fine! Well, I'm going to be on my way now!"**_

"_**Father no! Please wait!"**_

"That was so cruel, what our old king did," Emily whispered, "and right in front of the entire Labyrinth's population too. What a way to start your reign as the new ruler, in tears…"

Seto nodded, "That wasn't the worst of things though. Remember the conversation that followed?"

Emily paled, "Do I ever…"

_**Emily was Gozaburo's new apprentice. At around twelve years of age, she was still very much awed by the grandeur and overwhelming size and intricacy of the castle. This was all very new to her. She was used to working in the vast garden at the back of the castle with the other servants. The women all looked after her as if she was their own daughter, because they had all known her now departed mother. However, she was unprepared to be literally plucked from the lot only that afternoon and chosen as the new apprentice to the new royal advisor.**_

_**She was in the throne room now, having just seen the currant King vanish into thin air, leaving her new master looking smug at the front of the room. A young boy with white hair stood beside him, looking at the throne nearby as if thinking that his father were merely joking and would materialize in moments, just sitting there with a secretive smile, saying, "Got'cha son! You fell for my jest!"**_

_**No one appeared.**_

_**Gozaburo cleared his throat and held up the slightly crying child's hand, "BEHOLD EVERYONE! YOU'RE NEW KING!" **_

_**Cheers erupted from all sides and only died down when Gozaburo realized Bakura wasn't responding and asked everyone to leave to 'give the new king time to rest up'.**_

_**Emily approached cautiously, until she was finally able to see the small group that now crowded around the new King, yet far enough to hide partly behind a large marble pillar until Gozaburo called for her. She could see all their faces clearly now. Gozaburo's ugly mug along with two boys, one with light green hair and another with sapphire blue eyes and short brown locks. There were also two girls, both with fairy wings; only one had black hair, while the other's was a golden-blond color. **_

_**Then Emily saw the new king, wiping his tears away and putting a stony uncaring mask over his features. He was trying to be strong in light of his father leaving him… and he was succeeding. To this day all present there still couldn't believe how fast Bakura had switched into the mode of "heartless ruler". **_

"_**Well then… that's been enough wasting time." Bakura had said, his voiced seemingly having lowered an octave or two unintentionally to help him suit his new position. It suited him. In Emily's eyes that voice had sparked something in her heart, and she couldn't wait to hear it again. **_

"_**Bakura…" the blond girl had called the young king by his name. Emily thought now that she must be his cousin, the princess Mai, because only family called royalty by name.**_

"_**What?" the king snapped, "I'm not about to waste any more time on that pitiful excuse of a king and father. Now, I'm in charge and I'm going to rule the Labyrinth better than he ever did or ever could!"**_

"_**Please, your majesty," the green haired boy tried, "you need some time to cool off and think about everything clearly."**_

"_**No." Bakura's voice was cold, devoid of any emotion that was there previously, "I don't need to think. I need to act. I need to show the inhabitants of this land who is now in charge or every elf, goblin and fairy will be at our gates before nightfall trying to take my throne from me… and my first order of business is a spell to make things last around here."**_

_**Gozaburo blanched at the thought of a child that young performing magic. Emily didn't see what the problem was. Apparently, Bakura was already very powerful. At a click of his fingers he could produce a crystal in his hand and with a nod of his head he could trap a fully grown Cyclops in it. **_

"_**What kind of spell…?" Seto inquired hesitantly, "What do you mean by 'making things last' my Prin- King?"**_

_**Bakura looked down, "He promised he'd come visit every so often, but by the time he does visit again, I could be years older than I am now! So what I'll do is cast a spell on the whole Labyrinth and the land beyond it, so that everyone will only age one year for every millennium they live. That way, even if he visits one hundred, two hundred, even five hundred years from now, I'll still only be twelve, and neither will he or all of you have aged either! It's the perfect way to ensure that we'll still have plenty of time together before the time comes for all of us to…" he trailed of. Even for a king, at that age the prospect of death was scary and supposed to be distant.**_

"_**That's madness." Gozaburo growled, "You can't-"**_

_**Bakura silenced him with a glare.**_

_**Around the time Gozaburo was forced to bite his tongue, Emily had taken a step away from the pillar she was concealed behind and had been spotted by Noah.**_

"_**Hey you! What're you doin' here? This meeting is for classified personnel only!"**_

"_**Oh shut up, you stupid little twit. She's my new assistant." Gozaburo growled, "Emily, come over here!" **_

_**Said girl jumped as if she'd been physically struck and uttered a meek 'yes master' before approaching. At a close distance Emily was amazed at how handsome the new king was. Snow white hair framed his pale flawless face while sinfully dark crimson eyes locked on her face, scrutinizing every detail as if looking for signs of treachery and committing every detail to memory in case he needed to call upon the image at a later date.**_

"_**A new apprentice?" Bakura questioned, "Why on earth do you need an apprentice? If anything, I think she'd be put to better use being at my disposal also."**_

_**Emily looked at the king. 'So handsome…' she thought, 'I'd love to spend more time with him…'**_

"_**I'd love to…" she hadn't even realized she'd said the words out loud until they were well past her lips and onto the ears of those present. **_

_**Bakura smirked, "There, see Gozaburo? She'll be my apprentice from now on too. Now, let's stop wasting time and get to work on this spell I've got planned."**_

_**The new king had left then, with not a 'goodbye' or parting gesture to be seen. **_

"That was how Bakura had begun his reign as King, taking charge the very first day and never slowing down since then." Emily whispered, "And I followed him and watched him cast that damn irreversible spell."

"I think Bakura thought he'd only be taking charge until his fathers return." Seto put in, "But when his father only came back about three millennia ago… and to announce he was moving to the human world… I think that's when Bakura finally realized that he was truly the king until- well, until he bore an heir to the throne."

"Yes, an heir, of course." Emily mocked, "Face it elf, the King will never have a child of his own! He couldn't love if his life depended on it! And besides, who in their right mind would fall in love with him in the first place?"

"You would." Seto's voice was nothing but certain, "And, apparently he can love. He loves Marik… I think…"

"Horrible little monstrosity," Emily growled, "I'm glad I saw him at the mercy of the Big Five just minutes ago, or I'd be-"

Seto hadn't stayed to hear the rest of that sentence. All that had penetrated his mind were the words of Marik and the Big Five, the most notorious rare animal collectors in this realm or the humans' one.

Emily growled, 'Just Great!' she thought sarcastically as she watched Seto running off at a fast pace, 'That elf got me sidetracked! Now what will I tell Bakura? Instead of leading the elf away from the child, I've just convinced him to go back! Ackiana!' Narrowing her eyes, she growled low, "Marik Ishtar… you won't win. I'll make sure you die at the hands of the Big Five… This just became personal…"

...

"Let me out, you monsters!" Marik yelled to his captors from behind the iron bars that held him. It had been not even ten minutes and yet Marik could feel every second crawl by at an agonizingly slow pace.

'I don't have the time to stay here!' he thought worriedly, 'Mokuba is still up in that dreadful castle with the King and I have to save him!'

"Ooh, he's a feisty one, 'ey Johnson?" Gansley sat on the stump of the tree that still held the sack, although its contents were now unmoving.

"Indeed." Johnson adjusted his glasses, "He'd do well to learn what silence is, like our Ogre friend has."

Marik's attention immediately flew to Johnson. "Orge…?" No one paid any heed to the whispered inquiry though.

Nesbitt poked the bag hanging from the tree with a sharp stick, "Hey in there, wake up!"

A pained yowl followed the childish assault and the bag jerked as if it contents were trying to shift away from Nesbitt and his 'weapon'.

Crump gave a mocking chuckle, "Well, I guess it's safe to say that the monster hasn't run out of air as of yet."

A round of sinister laughter followed this remark.

...

Inside the bag hanging from the tree sat the topic of discussion itself. Hunched over and trying to breathe as little as possible, lest it use up the last of its minuscule air supply, was the Ogre. Of course, he hated the title with a passion. After all, he wasn't green or hairless or anything of the likes. He listened to the laughter erupting outside of his cloth prison and was urging himself not to cry when he heard that voice ring out again.

"Shut up, all of you!" Marik yelled in fury. Marik… that was the boy's name, wasn't it? He had heard the big five mention it earlier.

'Sorry kid.' He thought, 'It was my howling that got you mixed up in this. I'm too much of a coward... I shouldn't have called for help.'

"Ooh look!" Nesbitt's voice sounded from outside and below, "He has spirit! He's worried about the Ogre!"

A loud noise like shattering glass was suddenly heard, followed instantaneously by a cry of fright and shock from the boy.

"Nice shot Crump!" Lector cheered, "Right in between the bars too! Look! The glass cut his arm!"

The Ogre clenched his fists, 'They threw a glass at him! Those stupid morons threw a _glass_ at him!"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" the Ogre felt himself bellow loudly as he started to rip at the cloth of the bag and jerk it around. He heard a faint groaning sound and knew the tree was literally coming out of the ground, offset by all the weight being thrown around in its branches. However, he didn't care. He wanted out! And the fastest way to get out was by using brute force.

...

Marik hardly had time to comprehend what was going on. One second he was clutching his bleeding upper arm and glaring at the Big Five, who were sitting only a good three meters away, drinking labyrinthian style alcohol and laughing at him. Then, the next moment there was a terribly loud noise erupting from the bag suspend in the tree near them, not unlike the howling he'd heard earlier. This time though, the sound was accompanied by the bag being frantically swiped at from the inside and a constant jolting that threatened to pull the entire tree down.

Casting a quick look towards the Big Five, Marik saw them jumping up from their seated positions and grabbing their weapons from where they were laid against one of the stone walls surrounding the space.

"Quiet!" Gansley yelled at the creature inside the bag, thrusting his spear into the sack quickly. There was a terrible ripping sound as the bag was punctured and then all was still.

'Oh dear Ra…' Marik's heart seemed to stop as suddenly as the noise, 'They killed the Ogre… They stabbed it…'

Moments passed by while each member of the Big Five gang relaxed in turn. First Crump, then Gansley, Nesbitt and Johnson. Lector was probably the most hesitant, but eventually he accepted that there was no danger and chucked his spear down.

"Damn that was annoyingly time wasting." Crump growled, before grinning maliciously as he set eyes on Marik. The poor boy was curled up in his cage clutching his bleeding left arm with his right hand and letting a few tears slip down his cheeks silently. The others of the Big Five caught on quickly and started walking towards the young captive.

Marik only realized the imminent danger when he heard the cage being unlocked. He turned just in time to be roughly pulled to his feet by Johnson and Lector, while Gansley leaned down to examine him at close quarters.

"A pretty young thing like you," the old man mused, watching his prisoner struggle, "could have great… uses." He stood up straight, addressing his companions, "What do you say boys? I'll go first and tell you if he's good."

'What are they talking about?' Marik wondered as he struggled to escape, 'There's nothing I have that they could want… is there?'

Nesbitt poked Marik hard in the side with his index finger, "It's almost a shame to destroy something so pretty and innocent."

"Let me go, you monsters!" The tanned youth growled, baring his teeth in manner that made one feel more sympathetic than afraid of him.

Another round of amused and cruel laughter rang out through the air and Marik lowered his head to hide his tears by letting his long hair fall over his face and conceal his eyes from view. This was horrible. He had only a good five hours more, at most, to rescue Mokuba and he was nowhere near completing the Labyrinth.

Marik's eyes refuse to stop crying, 'All those times I wished I could come here… and now I wish I'd never even heard of the place…'

Then he heard it, very faint above all the noise of the Big Five's laughter and his own heart pounding in fear and despair, but it was there. A slight ripping sound was drifting through the air, as if someone was cutting strong material very slowly, so as not to alert anyone of there activities. Marik's head flew up and his eyes widened as they focused on the suspended bag from earlier. A pair of large strong hands was gripping the sides of the hole that Gansley had punctured in the bag with his spear.

'The Ogre isn't dead!' Marik felt a smile make its way onto his face briefly and ducked his head again so that none of his captors would see. 'The Ogre isn't dead at all! He was just pretending so they'd leave him alone and he could get out of the bag without them noticing!'

Marik watched through his blond strands as the small puncture in the bag was stretched to a large hole in the bottom. He barely heard the any of the Big Five's words in their new argument about who was going to 'try' him first. All he was focused on was the body that silently creped down out of the bag and gathered up each of the discarded spears sprawled over the ground.

When all the spears had been gathered into his hands, the Ogre started to creep towards the group of fighting men, a murderous expression written over his features. Marik couldn't deny that he was frightening, at six-foot-two -surpassing Seto in height by about an inch- and looking muscular enough to bend and iron bar into a pretzel shape. He wore a pair of dark brown pants that came to jagged ends at his knees and his chest was bare, except for a piece of light brown cloth that was draped over his shoulders with a slot cut out of it for his head to fit though. He had brown hair that grew on his arms, chest and legs and looked anywhere from seventeen to nineteen years old.

'He could be even older,' Marik thought, recalling he and Seto's talk from earlier, 'like five thousand years older!'

Although this new man was advancing on the Big Five, his eyes had now shifted their gaze from them to Marik, determined brown eyes that weren't quite as rich as Bakura's or hazel as Marik's friend Joey's. To top it all of, the last intriguing fact about this newcomer was by far the strangest. It was that his hair, a lighter shade of brown than Seto's, ended at a sharp, but scruffy, point at the front of his head.

Each of the Big Five halted their debate abruptly, as if subconsciously noticing for the first time that something didn't seem right in the vicinity. The Ogre took the brief lull as a sign to begin his attack. Marik watched the beastly human crouch down low, the five spears now clutched in his large right fist, and then pounce. Johnson gave a cry of pain before dropping to the floor, a spear through his back. He had been killed instantly.

The rest of the big five were to fast though. Nesbitt pulled a dagger from nowhere and threw it at the Ogre, only barely missing the beast's neck and hitting his shoulder instead. A burst of blood and a pained howl followed as the creature hit the floor.

"Gansley, you idiot!" Crump called, "I thought you killed that stupid monstrosity!"

"Shut up!" Gansley bit back, drawing a net from under some of the hedges surrounding them. "We'll kill it now! Lector, get the spears off it! Crump; go find some more things from the traps we've laid around here that we could use to kill the Ogre! And Nesbitt, you go see if Johnson is still breathing. If he is, get him up to help. If he isn't then just kick him off in to a corner and go help Crump."

Marik stared in horror. These men were barbarians. They hadn't even given a second thought to the welfare of their teammate! Only killing that poor Ogre was their main priority.

The blonde boy narrowed his eyes. This wasn't right. This was inhumane. You couldn't just _kill off_ something for trying to protect itself!

The boy suddenly seemed to forget the pain in his arm and the blood leaking between his fingers as he held the wound. Suddenly he forgot about Mokuba and his mission to save his brother. He forgot about the stubborn, but seemingly kind, elf Seto who had helped him before. He forgot everything and anything but the fact that the Ogre could have escaped unnoticed earlier and was only lying in the dirt injured and about to face his death because he had tried to attack the Big Five and help Marik. Like a friend would… and wasn't that what Marik had always wanted? A magical friend who would risk their life for him and prove he wasn't as alone as he always thought he had been?

Well now Marik had gotten his wish. The Ogre had proved to be a valuable ally. Unfortunately, Marik hadn't counted on one thing. Now he wanted to help the Ogre in return, and to do that, he was going to have to risk his life...

...

Seto ran back towards the hedge mazes as fast as his legs could possibly take him. All sorts of horrible images about Marik dead, beaten or worse ran through his mind. He wasn't far of from his location at the moment; only just passing the stone quadrant of the labyrinth, so he should be at the hedges soon.

Something crossed Seto's mind while he ran though. This area was the only part of the Labyrinth that Marik and he had not traversed together. He had left the boy to face this part of the Labyrinth on his own, and then met up with him in the Oubliette. This was the only part of the Labyrinth he had traversed so far that felt strangely… empty… to him. Was it because of Marik? Had the boy had such an effect on, not only him and the King, but on the very Labyrinth itself, that the place felt so empty and lonely without him, just because it knew that he might not ever walk on that part of the Labyrinth ever again?

'No,' he thought, 'I'm being stupid. No one child could do so much.' After a few more minutes of running though, the elf growled in agitation, "Ackiana, he better be alright!"

...

The King sat at his throne, looking into one of his crystal balls once more. The scene on the other end was of a large white house surrounded by police officers. Ha, what fool they were! The thought of so many people all looking in the wrong places was almost humorous to Bakura.

"You will all have your precious little Mokuba back soon, I promise." Bakura spoke to the crystal as if the ones it reflected in its depths could hear his words. "Marik, however, will stay where he is. Here with me. He will live in my castle from now on. He'll marry me and rule this entire realm with me and no one will ever interfere. I'll kill anything that tries to spoil my plans… and that elf is already the first on my list to die…"

...

Isis exited the kitchen and closed the door softly behind her. She didn't care that she had just received the most thorough talking-to in her entire life. She didn't care that she was grounded and had to stay in the house at all times from that moment until this exact time next year. She didn't care that she was forbidden to speak to her brothers Malik and Rishid in any way, shape or form until her parents trusted her enough to let her. She didn't care about anything but the fact that she thought she might be going insane from this whole dilemma and that the guilt of letting her younger brothers be taken was finally getting to her.

"You will all have your precious little Mokuba back soon." She repeated the sentence as if she had just pulled a long lost dream from her mind and was trying it out again, just for the sake of hoping it would come true this time. That sentence had drifted into her mind, spoken by some unknown male's voice, just seconds before her parents had concluded their 'talk' with her. Something wasn't right. Was she hearing a premonition for the future, or was she simply just loosing what was left of her fragile sanity? Was that Bandit Keith's voice drifting through time and space to reach her and inform her of what was yet to come?

"Hopefully things will turn out better than this voice predicts." Isis muttered tiredly. "I'm not worried about the first part. It's the second prediction that scares me. Oh Ra, please, whatever happens, don't let that voice's promises ring true!"

_**Marik, however, will stay where he is… and no one will ever interfere…**_

Isis had fallen to the floor and started to cry after remembering those words, only pausing for breath when Malik walked through the front door, carrying the groceries.

"Of all the damn luck!" Isis heard the tanned, blond teen mutter, "I'm the oldest bloody child, except for Rishid, and they blame you because it was your bloody friend!"

Malik stopped upon noticing his younger sister wasn't eye level with him. He calmly put down the grocery bags with a bored expression and walked over to the fallen raven beauty.

"Get up." He instructed in a no-nonsense tone, holding out his right hand to aid her in standing.

Isis turned to face the wall, "You're not allowed to talk to me. Mother and Father will ground you too if they hear you. They're in the kitchen now."

Malik's face twisted into an annoyed grimace and Isis was thoroughly shocked when she felt both her upper arms being grabbed and then found herself being hauled up and carried bridle style over to the couch.

"Fuck that." Malik growled, tossing her onto the couch, before slumping down beside her. "It wouldn't affect me anyway, you moron. My friends are all stupid, drug dealing, rock-star-wannabes with no lives. You're the social bee in the family. Though, from what I've seen, you're friends don't seem to be any better."

"Thank you Malik." Isis's words were soft and barely audible. "I'm just so worried about Marik and Mokuba! It's all my fault!"

It was now Malik's turn to be shocked as Isis suddenly launched her head into his shoulder and began to cry.

"Uh…" He searched for any words to say that would possibly bring normality back into the conversation. "Hey… stop crying, this is my favorite shirt. See, this is why I hate sensitive women! When I marry a girl, she'll be a sexy, fiery spirited young thing that could take a punch to the gut and still keep fighting!"

Malik felt proud of himself when he heard Isis's small giggles start.

"Malik," she started, "The day you get married is the day a knight in shining armor will rescue me from harms way!"

"Ra, you and your bloody Knight fixation!" Malik smirked, "I hope you marry a psychologist, or someone carrying a profession as equally boring. That aught to snap you out of this damn obsession once and for all."

Malik was at least expecting a small chuckle from his sister for that remark, but all she did was lower her head once more to look at the floor.

"I think I'm already outgrowing that little fantasy Malik. Knights aren't real; otherwise one would have already swept me off my feet and carried me away from this nightmare a good while ago."

There was silence for a small period of time, and finally Isis lifted her gaze to see why Malik had fallen so quiet. He was looking at her, as if she were a small bird with a broken wing that he had no idea how to treat in general, let alone heal its wounds. Finally the male seemed to decide on something, as he bent close to her and whispered in a deadly tone.

Malik said; "You tell anyone I did this and you're life will be over in an instant, got it?"

Isis nodded fearfully, although she knew not what she was agreeing to, until Malik hoisted her into his arms once again and carried her to the front door.

Isis was about to question what he was doing until she saw him stop and write a message in the open phone notebook on the table by the front door.

_To whom it may concern._

_The brave and extremely handsome knight Malik Ishtar has kidnapped the lady Isis from this castle of sadness and taken her away to the local café for a strawberry milkshake to cheer her up. _

_He promises to return the maiden only when she is smiling again._

_Signed; Sir Malik._

Malik dropped the pen quickly and walked out the door, ignoring all the policemen staring at them quizzically, and to his black motorbike, which was parked at the front of the house. He set her down next to the contraption and handed her his helmet, black in color to match the machine. Malik then bowed low at the waist as she stared at him, dumfounded.

"You're chariot awaits, dear lady." He said with a smirk at seeing her small smile of apprehension and gratitude.

"See?" he teased, mounting the bike, "You're smiling already… but let's pretend I haven't seen it yet."

...

Bakura sat with a small smirk on his features, as he watched Marik's older brother and sister drive off. He twirled the crystal in his hand and observed them from all angles.

"So," he whispered, "that Malik boy does have a heart. Wonder if it will break when he realizes he'll never see his little brother Marik again?"

"You're despicable." A small whimper came from near the leg of his throne.

"Yes Mokuba. I am." Bakura answered, "And your time is running out."

The raven haired boy wiped a few tears from his eyes discreetly, before looking up once more into the king's eyes.

"Please," he started, "Can you show me where Marik is right now?"

Bakura nodded and suddenly Mokuba saw the image in the crystal change. The faces of Malik and Isis faded away to be replaced by a frightful scene. Marik looked to be on his last reserves as he walked toward a group of four men who were tying down a large beast-like man with ropes and nets. Mokuba didn't think he'd ever seen his brother in as bad a shape as he was then. Marik walked unsteadily, swaggering barely noticeably while he clutched his bleeding left arm with his right hand. His face was paler than usual and his eyes shone with unshed tears.

Mokuba gasped in horror. How could the King let this happen to Marik? How could he look at this and not even care that the child was on the verge of collapsing? Mokuba quickly turned to the king, tears leaking from his eyes.

"How could you-" the words died on his lips. Bakura was staring at the image, horror and fear written over his features. He looked as though he was foreseeing his whole existence about to be crushed into oblivion.

"Well, look at that. The boy's hit a bit of a hindrance." A voice sounded from behind both the silent males, and the man Mokuba recognized from earlier came to stand beside the king.

Said King was suddenly at his feet and before Mokuba could even see what had happened, a large beam of light had erupted from Bakura's palm and slammed Gozaburo into the wall ten meters behind him.

"I gave you an order." Bakura addressed the royal advisor with such an icy tone, that Mokuba nearly felt artic chills brush past his flesh. "I told you to watch over Marik and make sure no great harm would befall him."

"My King, I hardly believe a mere cut of the flesh is 'great harm'. The child-" Gozaburo was interrupted as another bolt of magic from the king hit him square in the chest, forcing him back and stealing his breath away.

"Shut up, you useless fool." Bakura growled. "I'm done listening to you. You-"

"I," the advisor interrupted, "am stronger than you in spirit, _Bakura_. I'd never let a mere human boy control my every thought and action."

The King narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists tightly to retain his anger, "Watch your mouth, you pathetic little-"

"You are weak, Bakura." Gozaburo quickly intervened, "Just face it. You care too much for a human and you'd let everything else you ever held important in your mind and heart shatter into dust just for his sake. You're making the same mistake your father made!" Gozaburo stopped for a moment to smirk at the King's shocked fearful expression. "Face it Bakura. You're falling in love."

...

"Ha! Kill the beast!" Gansley laughed, throwing another net over the Ogre, who was clenching his teeth in pain and trying to see straight, through the strain of all the agonizing sensations. Lector had taken the spears from the Ogre, without protest, while Nesbitt had done as told and kicked Johnson's dead body off into a corner. Now all of the remainder of the Big Five were pinning the Ogre down to the floor via whatever was available.

"I've an idea." Nesbitt said, "Let's cut parts of his arms and legs off, bits at a time, and roast and eat them right in front of him!"

"Yeah!" both Lector and Crump cheered in unison.

"Very well then." Gasley smirked at the scared Ogre. "That's what we'll do."

"Over my dead body you will." Marik said, approaching the men and carrying the same spear that had killed Johnson in his hand.

"What was that, little boy?" Crump asked in a threatening tone.

"I mean that you won't be able to hurt that poor Ogre," Marik answered, coming to a stop only a few meters away from the men, "unless you kill me first."

"You stupid little kid!" Nesbitt growled, "Do you really think-"

"Shut up Nesbitt!" Gansley's voice silenced him. "This could be fun. Alright kid." He turned to address Marik, "I'll make you a deal. One of us will battle you. Spears will be the weapon used, and if you defeat and kill that person, then the Ogre and yourself may go free."

Marik nodded.

"However," Gansley continued, "If you lose… well, death is self explanatory, don't you think?"

...

"No Marik!" Mokuba's cry startled both Bakura and Gozaburo, "Don't fight! Please! It's gotta be a trick!"

"What's happening?" Bakura cursed the words the moment they left his lips.

"Marik's gonna fight one of those Big Five goons!" Mokuba cried, holding the crystal tightly in his little hands, as if somehow it would protect Marik if he did so. "Please Mr. Goblin King, you've gotta do something! You've gotta save him!"

"I will-" Bakura started, but at seeing Gozaburo's knowing look, he quickly added, "not. That child chose to face the Labyrinth and its perils and now he must do just that."

Mokuba looked at the king in astonishment as the monarch sat down calmly in his throne again and uttered words that tasted nauseatingly of fear, "I won't interfere, Gozaburo. I'll show you and everyone else in this realm that I am a better king than my father ever was. I'll show you I'm not weak… and that I'm not the slightest bit in love with Marik Ishtar."

Gozaburo smirked, coming over to stand beside Bakura. "Well said my king. I knew you'd see sense soon enough. Now, let's watch this duel and see if this child lives up to the amazing reputation you've built of him."

From his position on the floor, Mokuba was sure; he was the only one able to see the King clench his hand into a fist around the end of his armrest.

...

Seto Kaiba was only a few meters from the place he and Marik had parted ways earlier when he felt himself hit a barrier of some sort. He fell backwards onto the ground, dazed momentarily.

"Oh…What did I hit?" he groaned, holding a hand to the side of his head to relive the pain. He cast a look around, but there was nothing in site, not even Mr. Mutou or Noah was in the vicinity.

The elf rose to his feet quickly, ignoring his oncoming headache and walked forward, outstretched his right hand in front of himself.

Everything looked to be normal, until his palm came to lay flat against an invisible surface and he gasped.

"Oh no…" he breathed, dread smothering his quiet tone.

A shrill laugh erupted from behind him and he spun sharply to face Emily Ioakire, standing with her arms crossed and a smug look on her face.

"Hello Seto. We meet again." Everything about her; her voice, appearance and character, reminded the elf of a poisoned apple; beautiful… until you dug deeper and found the venom hidden within.

Seto growled and launched himself at the girl. Lady or not, he was going to kill her. His plans came to a crashing halt though, when he found himself pressed up against another pane of impenetrable glass.

"You manipulative, little bitch." He cursed her.

"Oh, calm down," she urged in a bored tone, "it's only temporary, until Marik loses against a member of the Big Five. You can go free when he's dead. It's a very nice prison though, don't you think Seto? You've about four to six meters squared to walk around in."

Seto tried to escape again, this time to the side. He hit glass again. It was the same in every direction he turned. Emily was right. There was no escape.

"Why do this?" He growled at her, "What good will it do? If I don't get to Marik now, then there's no hope! He'll die! Would you like that Harpy? Would you like metaphorical blood on your hands for the rest of eternity? The blood of an innocent young child!"

"Shut up!" She snarled, "I'm under strict orders from Gozaburo and the king to make sure you don't get to close to that little brat Marik. It's not my fault if my orders lead to the child's death."

Seto broke his gaze from the girl to cast it toward the hedges he was sure hid Marik from his view. Marik was going to die… and there was nothing he could do to help. Sure, he and the kid had had some really close calls before, such as the incidents with Bandit Keith and the Cleaner… but it was different this time. This time Marik had no one to help him out of trouble… and he was finally going to die…

'Damn,' Seto cursed mentally, 'poor Marik… I think he actually managed to get into my stupid heart after all…' Seto felt the golden band on his forearm, "…poor Marik… you never deserved any of this…'

...

Crump handed Lector a spear, smirking, "Now, don't kill him to fast. We do want a good show, after all."

Lector took the weapon and grinned maliciously back, "Oh don't worry. I'll give a performance to **die** for!"

Each of the remainder of the Big Five laughed as Lector went to stand a good seven meters from where Marik was waiting. The young boy still held the spear that brought Johnson's death in his hands. He wasn't shaking, although he was afraid. This was a duel to the death that he had to win, which meant that he'd have to kill Lector.

"I'll win this duel." Marik spoke quietly, "I'll win this duel… for Mokuba's sake... and the Ogre's…"

Lector took his stance, "Ready to die, kid?"

"Ready to loose, monster?" Marik asked back, trying not to focus on the pain lancing through his arm or the fear coursing through his veins.

...

"The boy will die." Gozaburo laughed.

Bakura closed his eyes briefly, wishing that anything and everything in the Labyrinth would somehow know of Marik's plight and lend its strength to the child.

'Good luck Marik.' He thought, 'Good luck, my… love…'

"Good luck, big brother..." Mokuba whispered, quivering with fear.

...

The Ogre looked up from his position under the nets that held him captive, by the sides of Crump, Gansley and Nesbitt.

"Good luck… my little hero…"

...

Seto bit his lip lightly, his anger dissipating momentarily into fear laced apprehension and sadness, "Good luck kiddo…"

...

Marik could feel his heart starting to beat faster, in uneasiness at the upcoming challenge. It was time to fight.

"Set!" Gansley shouted, "And…GO!"

Lector started to run towards Marik, "Coming at you kid, ready or not!"

Marik narrowed his eyes and held his spear tightly, whispering, "Ready…"

**Wow, that was very tiring to write! I hope everyone enjoyed it. Can anyone guess who the Ogre is? I know its probably pretty obvious, thanks to the comment about the hair. **

**Please everyone review if you liked this! The more you review, the more I'll write and the faster I'll update! **

**Next Chapter: Marik fights for his life against Lector, with no one to help him. Ooh, the suspense! **

**Well, that's all for now. PLEASE REVIEW!**


	7. Love

**Hello everyone, and welcome again to another chapter of "1****st**** Labyrinth." Once again, I apologize for the delayed update. However, trust me, there was quite a lot going on during Christmas. Anyway, I made this chapter my longest one yet to make up for it. **

**Thank you to all who haven't given up on this story. I'm very thankful that there are people taking the time to review and tell me the main things about the story that catch their interest.**

**I had to post this chapter twice, because I've picked up on a few spelling mistakes or holes in the plot. For example; the Goblin King still had gloves on when I was writing like he didn't and Marik didn't say where he had read the book first, before he obtained it. But now everything has been cleared up though. So if you've already read this chapter, I'm sorry. You don't have to read it again to find the fix-ups, because they're nothing big and dramatically changing to the plot; just a bit of an error cleanup.**

**Also, please check out my first ever puppy-shipping one-shot story; "Always Deadpan." **

_**1**__**st**__** Labyrinth…**_

**Chapter 7: Love…**

Marik narrowed his eyes and held his spear tightly, whispering, "_Ready…_"

The word stung like an ice covered dagger, digging its way into Bakura's heart and the King was more than just a little confused by the sudden pain. Pain… in his heart… Gozaburo had told him that only the weakest of creatures had hearts, and Bakura knew he was certainly not weak. He was the Goblin King; a vindictive, cruel and wicked entity with immense power and no heart, so… how could someone like him feel pain where he was supposed to have no feeling?

"You really are turning soft, aren't you Bakura?" Gozaburo asked, noticing the King's quiet contemplation. The advisor stroked his greasy mustache between his thumb and forefinger, "You're becoming weaker. What is next, that you ask this boy to rule the Labyrinth with you? Do you wish to lay him down on a soft bed, strewn with fresh rose petals and make love to him? Well, I suppose your father would approve…"

Bakura became rigid at these words. His father! How dare Gozaburo compare him to the previous king! His father was a fool; a sentimental, pathetic and shameful mess of a Labyrinthian! He never deserved to be a king, but Bakura did. Bakura was just the king that the Labyrinth needed; one that wouldn't go running off to a different dimension, leaving his subjects and kingdom alone and the entire weight of his responsibility as king on the small and inexperienced shoulders of his only heir.

Bakura suddenly stopped still, mid thought. He froze as he comprehended what Gozaburo has also accused him of prior. His advisor had pegged his thoughts as though they were a target of points on a dart board.

_**What is next, that you ask this boy to rule the Labyrinth with you…?**_

'No…' Bakura could feel the dread leaking into his heart from every angle, 'that is exactly what I was planning… I wanted Marik to rule beside me… I wanted…'

_**Do you wish to lay him down on a soft bed, strewn with fresh rose petals and make love to him…?**_

The terror increased with every passing moment… Bakura couldn't believe it; he wouldn't believe it; that he was following in his father's footsteps without meaning to…

_**I suppose your father would approve…**_

The King shivered, causing Gozaburo to notice the sudden trance-like state Bakura had come to be in.

"Well, my dear king, having trouble accepting your new sweet and loving nature, are we?" the advisor grinned maliciously.

The affect was instantaneous, as the king snapped out of his reverie and thrust his arm towards Gozaburo's chest. No sooner had his fingertips made contact with the rough fabric of the consultant's shirt, than Gozaburo let out a surprised and terrified yell as he was catapulted backwards at lightening speed. He slammed against the wall behind him, much like he had done earlier, and slowly slid down onto his shaking legs, before collapsing onto his knees and then finally landing fully horizontal on the smooth but solid marble floor.

Mokuba turned quickly from the crystal he had been focused on to gape at the king. Bakura still had flecks of magic glistening around his outstretched palm from where he had propelled Gozaburo backwards. It was amazing; the king wasn't even breathing heavily. His power was so immense that even literally heaving a man twice his size a good ten meters distance using his mental power alone was but a trivial act.

"_I'm gonna kill you, kid!_" Lector's grotesque voice came from inside the crystal ball Mokuba held, making Bakura instantaneously redirect his concentration to the battle that had caused his quarrel with his royal advisor in the first place. Gozaburo glanced upwards, agony and anger written across the plains of his skin, staring at the fight along with an alarmed Mokuba.

...

Lector was closing in fast, spear held tightly in his hands and a grimace of determination and sick victory set thoroughly on his hard features. The Ogre tied down on the sidelines watched in absolute astonishment as the first swing of Lector's spear came, almost to fast to be seen. The sharp blade of his weapon swooped in on Marik from the child's left side and the boy barely managed to crouch down fast enough to avoid what would have been a painful demise.

While Lector regained his balance and his senses recovered from the confusion of his target suddenly evading him, Marik hastily slid through Lector's outstretched legs –spear in hand –and swiftly, but shakily, leaped onto his feat. He pulled his spear back without a second thought and thrust it towards Lector's back.

...

"He's going to win!" Mokuba shouted in glee.

Bakura's eyes widened with barely concealed hope.

Gozaburo grunted in annoyance and wrinkled his plump nose in aggravation.

...

Lector turned around, lightening fast and promptly grasped the spear that was headed for him in a sturdy right fist. The sharp end of the weapon, though, had succeeded in piercing his flesh for a brief moment, causing him to emit a pained gasp while small explosions of blood flew from the fresh tear in the flesh of his stomach.

Marik was left, gasping in terror. What had just happened? Lector had caught his intended attack and now, though the male was wounded, he was also twice as angry as prior and ready to counter Marik's assault with one of his own. He did that sooner than expected though, and Marik gasped as he felt his feet literally being raised off of the ground. Lector was thrusting the fist that held the business end of Marik's weapon high above the ground, thus lifting Marik also. The tanned youth was struggling to retain his steadily diminishing grip on his only available weapon, and thus; his only available hope of winning the battle.

He was now eye level with the gigantic thug Lector, coming to be a full seven or eight feet off the ground in total. Marik fought down his urge to whimper in fright; it was absolutely terrifying; to kick his legs frantically and have them meet nothing but empty air, while the angry face of a rare-creature collector focused his piercing gaze solely upon his vulnerable form.

Marik suddenly felt an ache in his chest. Not a physical ailment, but an emotional void of sadness. This wasn't what he had envisioned the Labyrinth to be like. This wasn't the supposedly fantastic kingdom that the little red book had seemed to keep locked within its creamy pages. The realm the amethyst eyed child had imagined was a beautiful place full of funny little goblins that would hop about his feet and beautiful fairies that he could hold in the palm of his hand that would cuddle his thumb and smile sweetly at him. He pictured long twisting and turning paths that he could explore like an archeologist would a magical undiscovered tomb in Egypt and a great grand castle of crystal for the Goblin King to live and rule over all.

Unfortunately… that wasn't how things had turned out. The goblins and some of the other inhabitants of the Labyrinth were mean and calculating, for example, the four men whom had pulled the floor out from under him and those disgusting, horrid 'Helping Hands'… not to mention the enormous brute that held him aloft presently, looking at him with a stare he was sure he had seen before… on that thug Zygor's face while they were still stranded up in the branches of the oak tree at home. Marik felt the same disappointment at everything else he had come across in the Labyrinth. The only fairies he had seen – he was told by Seto – were vicious little monsters that could rip an arm off if one was not careful, the twisting and turning paths had turned out to be only elaborate death traps, the castle was made of nothing but cold stone that stood strongly with a dark and foreboding air and… the King…

Marik had expected a king like all the others in the stories he had read; around twenty-five or so and charming with a stubborn and stuck-up streak, but kind to all his subjects and sensible in the way he ruled. He had not envisioned all that Bakura had presented himself to be. The Goblin King Bakura was demanding, egotistical and he treated his subjects as though they were dirt under his feet. He ruled the Labyrinth as a warden would a prison… and the Labyrinth was starting to look more and more like a prison to Marik every second he spent there…

The Egyptian youth suddenly found it very hard to believe at that point that the Labyrinth was supposed to be considered fictional. It was impossible… every detail of the strange realm he now resided in was exactly as Arthur Hawkins had written it. Why was he thinking about that now anyway? He thought that the terror must be getting to him; for him to pick such an inopportune time to mull over how he came to be in his favorite fictional realm presently.

The realization hit him as Lector lifted his free hand to trace Marik's chin in a very lewd manner. Maybe… maybe the Labyrinth wasn't a fictional place at all! Maybe he had it all backwards, and the Labyrinth had existed _already_; leaving Arthur Hawkins to develop a story book _based upon_ his knowledge of the actual realm itself. Marik suddenly felt like kicking the world renowned Professor Hawkins in the shins for leaving out such important details when writing the book. If Marik had know what thugs, horrors and threats awaited him in the Labyrinth beforehand, the boy knew he would never have dared to open the miniature red book in the first place.

"Let's have a kiss, little baby." Lector's scratchy voice demanded, jarring Marik from his contemplations so violently that it took some careful processing of the previously spoken words to verbalize and understand what the rare-creature collector was speaking of.

And, of course, when Marik did manage to comprehend that statement, his eyes widened in horror and he began to struggle to get the behemoth holding the spear to free his grip on it.

...

Bakura's eyes had widened as well at hearing one of the Big Five demand a kiss from Marik.

'How **dare** that big brute even speak of laying those gargoyle lips on **my **Marik?' The King felt hatred and rage surge throughout his every limb. 'I swear; the second I'm out from under Gozaburo's mutinous gaze, I'll tip that gargantuan imbecile Lector head first right into the very deepest regions of the Bog of Eternal Stench!'

"You seem upset, my King." Gozaburo commented, supposedly offhandedly. So, it appeared to Bakura that his advisor had taken a step back from his pompous behavior earlier and started calling Bakura by his assigned title once more, instead of the king's real name. "Could it be your heart aches at the thought of your little human toy kissing another?"

Bakura's face displayed nothing but cold indifference. "Shut up you worthless piece of filth. You know nothing. I have no heart."

Mokuba watched the King stare emotionlessly at the crystal that the black haired boy still held in his outstretched palm. Even the youngest member of the trio in the throne room could see that Bakura was not enjoying Marik's plight at all. In fact, to the raven boy, he had a weird sort of expression on his face that reminded the child of when his big sister Isis was waiting for a phone call the other night from one of her 'friends'. It was a guy that was supposed to call that night; a guy that she apparently really liked. She had worn a bland expression all day long, telling whoever asked that it really wasn't that big of a deal to her if he called or not; because she didn't care about him at all. She said the same thing that night after he called… to ask her what kind of jewelry he should buy to impress a girl he'd seen that day. Isis told everyone that she didn't really care if he got a girlfriend or not, and even –after being teased by Malik –spat out that she couldn't have cared less if the guy had died a painful death outside the entrance to Domino Park. Mokuba saw her crying that night in her room, chanting something along the lines of 'I'll never find my knight in shining armor. Never, never, never, never,' and so on. Mokuba guessed she must have really felt something for that guy after all.

It was the same now. By showing no emotion for Marik at Gozaburo's prodding words… the king was unwillingly and unknowingly letting his advisor discover all…

...

Lector moved in quickly, his lips only inches from Marik's, when Marik suddenly stopped his struggle to loosen the mammoths grip on his spear…

…and preformed a maneuver that would be spoken of in the Labyrinth for years to come.

Marik swung forward, bunching up his legs. His feet hit Lector's chest and quickly kicked off of it, causing him to swing back, away and up, until he came to rest momentarily in a perfect vertical handstand; his hands set in fists around the horizontal spear Lector held, while his legs stretched straight and unshaken, with the soles of his sneakers facing the perfect light-pink tinted blue sky above.

This position didn't last for more than a moment though, as it would have been physically impossible to keep one's balance so steady under such precarious conditions. After only a split-second time lapse, Marik had flipped his left hand's position around so that he now faced Lector, only his position on the spear was now a little more to the left of the gigantic rare-creature collector.

The next few seconds stunned everyone into silence. Marik wasn't even thinking about what he was doing. His only thoughts were of saving Mokuba… saving the Ogre… seeing Seto again… seeing the King again…

Marik's legs came down over Lector's head and towards the back of the male's neck as the young Egyptian boy let his grip on the spear loose. The child's shoes were the first thing to connect with his target of the stunned behemoth's neck. The impact of the child's light –but unexpected –bodyweight caused Lector to loose his balance, and as Marik landed on his back, he toppled forwards…

… Right into the horizontal flat line of the sturdy spear he still held. He hadn't been quick enough to move his hand –or the weapon –out of his way, and his neck snapped upon the hard impact.

The next thing everyone watching the scene knew; Lector was lying upon the ground, **dead**, with the slim form of Marik Ishtar kneeling awkwardly upon his back, dazed and looking as though he had just taken on a mountain… which, to some, he might just have done, metaphorically speaking.

...

"HE** SUCCEEDED**?" Gozaburo hollered in surprised horror, while shaking the crystal ball he had snatched off Mokuba in a manner one's father might throttle the television set when static prevented him from seeing his favorite sports team thoroughly whip the opposition and win the match, "THAT LITTLE _BRAT_ **BEAT **A MEMBER OF THE **BIG FIVE**! IT'S **IMPOSSIBLE**!"

Mokuba was presently smiling as brightly as if sugar had just started raining down in an endless downpour from the ceiling. He turned to face the king, who was currently staring wide eyed at nothing in particular, contemplating what he had seen. _Where_ had his angel Marik learned that outstanding and abnormal fighting technique… _and from whom?_

Bakura felt a twist of jealousy inside his chest for more than a brief moment. Whoever had instructed Marik in the art of fighting had to have been very close to the boy. No one was brave enough to learn tricks like that without knowing there was someone they could trust there to catch them if they fell.

'Great; there's another contender for they boy's heart.' Bakura thought sarcastically, 'Any more suitors and I can just start calling it an all out tournament.'

"Marik learned that move from Rishid!" Mokuba's voice cut through his thoughts like a sharp blade, "I was there that day. Rishid taught Malik and Marik how to get out of a fight if someone stronger than them had them backed into a corner. Although, the usual move was to jump off of whatever they were hand-standing on and land behind whoever was attacking them. Then they were supposed to… um, what was that phrase Rishid used?" Mokuba stopped his rant to question himself reflexively, before his eyes lit up with recollection, "Oh yeah! I got it! He told them to 'high-tail it right on out of there' as fast as they could!"

'Oh,' Bakura realized, 'He learnt that move from his step-brother. Good, I don't have to worry about another admirer for my angel.'

Gozaburo was still growling like a rabid animal, "He **couldn't** have beat Lector _that_ easily! It's not _practical_!"

"Be silent Gozaburo." Bakura ordered, "The boy won this time, but the Labyrinth holds hundreds of tricks and traps yet to be encountered; each one more challenging than the last. He will not win. You are dismissed now, I wish to remain alone."

The royal advisor finally took his cue to halt his continual verbal abuse of the situation and kneeled, saying respectfully, "Yes, your majesty," then rising to walk across the throne room and out of the large double doors that were it's only entrance.

...

Seto had given up fighting completely. He now lay slumped against one of the invisible walls that imprisoned him, an indifferent and uninterested look covering his face like a thick mask. He should have known. He had warned himself countless times. 'Don't get to close to that Marik child, Seto,' he'd said to himself, 'Remember what happened when you became friends with the princess Mai; Gozaburo convinced the Goblin King to boot you out of the castle for 'prospective insurgence', and not only did you have to leave her, but your own sister as well.' But Seto knew he had still been a fool. He'd let his emotions cloud his better judgment once again and now he was forced to endure the emotional torture of having another of the people he cared about being ripped viciously away from him forever.

"You're awfully quiet over there Seto." Emily taunted from her sitting place in Solomon Mutou's large book-shaped chair. "What's the matter? Are you sad? Well, don't be. I promise when I become the queen I will ask Bakura to let you back into the palace… I'm sure we can find a nice room for you in the dungeons!"

Seto grit his teeth in frustration, trying to block out her mocking sniggers.

"I swear Harpy," his voice was calm, but laced with malice, "when I am free, I _will_ kill you."

"Ah, Seto." Spoke a new voice from behind him, "The same old lust for revenge embedded in your soul, I see."

Seto felt as though his blood had frozen momentarily.

"Step-father." He turned to face a very unhappy looking Gozaburo. However the man seemed to have no time for him at the moment, instead turning his gaze to a smirking Emily.

"Good news?" She prompted.

"The fight _is_ over," he clarified and her giddy grin grew while Seto's frown deepened.

"And…?" She could barely contain her excitement, thinking, 'What is that phrase humans always use at weddings…? Oh yes; _here comes the bride_!'

"Marik lives." Gozaburo sneered in distaste.

Emily's smile vanished instantly as Seto's jaw went slack with astonishment.

"WHAT?" They both yelled.

"You heard me." He answered Emily, "Now stop wasting my valuable time and follow me. We have to stop Marik somehow."

Gozaburo seemed to evaporate into thin air, and Emily soon followed him by transforming into a Magpie once again and flying off towards the direction of the castle.

Seto stood once more, testing that the barrier was gone. It was. Just as he suspected; Emily had to concentrate to keep the invisible cage in existence, and in her absence; it disappeared. The tall elf now started to run again towards the hedges where he was certain Marik was. The race was back on and once again, his emotions –in specific: his desire to save the boy from being murdered by Gozaburo and Emily –had won over his practical thinking process.

...

Marik shakily crawled off of the dead Lector's back, standing unsteadily on his own two feet once more. Gansley, Nesbitt and Crump were all glaring at him now as he spoke.

"There; I beat Lector." He said, a few tears leaking from his eyes, "Now, you have to release the Ogre and I."

"Not a chance kid." Gansley grinned, "We may have lost two of our team, but that doesn't mean that any of the remaining members of the Big Five are just going to go soft and let a mere brat boss us around."

Marik sank to his knees involuntarily as he felt the effects of the recent battle finally take their toll on him. He clutched his arm –now smeared with fresh and also dried blood –tighter as he closed his eyes to keep his vision from spinning, "But you said that if I won, you'd let us go."

"Oh, we'll let the ogre go, but we want to keep you a little longer." Grump stated as they all started to approach, "We'll only take you once each, we promise."

"No…" Marik lowered his head in defeat, tears trailing down his cheeks to splash silently on the ground. "This isn't fair."

They were only a few feet away from him now with the Ogre behind them struggling to cast off the net that was his prison. He couldn't help Marik. No one could.

A hand gripped the tanned boy's bloody arm and he let out a scream of pain; "NO! SETO, SOMEONE, HELP ME! PLEASE!"

Suddenly Marik heard the sound of the bushes to his far right rustling and Seto's unmistakable voice calling out; "MARIK!"… But it sounded so far away…

Then the young Egyptian felt a blast of artic air swirl around his being and heard a pained cry as the hand gripping his arm quickly relinquished its hold. He felt himself being swept up into a strong and warm embrace and heard whimpers of fright from the men who had threatened him and an awed gasp from the Ogre.

'Seto…' he thought, 'Seto saved me. I knew I could count on him.'

Marik gently loosened his right hand's grip on the cut on his left arm, letting the wounded appendage fall lax against the chest of the man who now held him bridal style, with his legs dangling over the male's right arm and his back supported by their left arm as his head lay cradled on the person's shoulder. Marik brought his bloodstained right hand up, looping it around the male's neck and bringing their faces closer together.

"Thanks…" Marik whispered.

"Well, um, we can see that you're very busy," Crump's voice cut in, "so, we'll just be going now." And with that, all three of what remained of the Big Five about faced and started to run away as fast as they could. Unfortunately for them though, that wasn't fast enough.

Marik opened his eyes, steadying his vision long enough to gasp in surprise and fear at the following scene. One by one, black and dark purple tinted portals opened beneath the three fleeing men. Gansley was the first to fall into one of the pits, followed by Nesbit and then Crump. The terrified screams of all three rang out loudly until each aperture closed again, leaving the ground unbroken once more and an eerie silence to follow.

Marik realized that he had tightened his grip on the male holing him out of fright and quickly loosened it, being smart enough to comprehend now that his friend Seto couldn't possibly be holding on to him. Seto didn't posses the power to do that sort of thing! The only person with that kind of magical ability was…

"Bakura!" Marik gasped, turning to the best of his ability to face the Goblin King. He didn't get much further than that though, as the sudden change in position jostled his wounded arm and caused his vision to swim. He let out an uncontrolled cry.

"Marik!" The voice was covered in concern and originated from the still-trapped Ogre on the ground a few yards away.

Seto came running up to the King's side, hell bent on assisting the tanned youth in any way possible, despite the fact that the male holding said boy could blast the elf to smithereens if he wanted to… and, apparently, he _really_ wanted to.

"Hey, Kiddo," Seto said soothingly, bringing his hand up to brush the boy's flaxen blond strands away from in front of his eyes, "How are you feeling?"

Marik closed his eyes again in exhaustion, saying; "Tired." He winced, "It's really painful." Suddenly his features relaxed in remembrance and he lifted his right arm slightly, pointing a bloodstained finger in the Ogre's direction. "Seto, I need you… to help my friend… please."

The elf cast a glance at the trapped hairy beast, "That? Hn, some friend." He said sarcastically. Then he heaved a sigh, walked over to the Ogre and began lifting the heavy layers of netting off of the creature.

"I don't understand why you'd want to save such a useless thing for, though."

Marik gave a weak chuckle, "He's helped me… He's a wonderful friend."

"Um… thank you." The Ogre said unsurely as the last net was lifted away. He stood up slowly, his teeth clamped with pain as he clutched his right shoulder firmly in his left hand; Nesbitt may have disappeared, but the damage he had done remained.

"You're still hurt!" Marik gasped, "Seto please, help him. Use your magic handkerchief or something."

Seto stiffened, casting a quick glance towards Bakura, praying he hadn't heard.

No such luck.

"A magic _what_?" The King's eyebrows lifted in inquiry, "You kept it? Gods, you really _are_ a sentimental fool, aren't you? Well, if you still have it Setlist than you might as well use the damn thing."

Seto brought the handkerchief out of his pocket, scowling as he tried to defend himself; "It serves a practical purpose, your majesty. I would have been a fool to dispose of it so hastily."

The Ogre watched as the handkerchief was rapped loosely around his shoulder, Seto looking at him disgustedly while the elf held it there.

"You smell foul, Ogre." He said in a flat and honest tone.

"Watch it pal," The Ogre bit back, "I'd like to see _you_ spend three days at the mercy of a pack of barbaric rare creature collectors and smell like a basket of roses afterwards. And the name is _Tristan_; Tristan Taylor."

"I don't really care, Ogre," Seto snarled back, removing the handkerchief from Tristan's now healed shoulder, "You still _stink_."

Seto looked at the handkerchief. There were no marks on it. It was designed to stay clean no matter what. He looked over at Marik. The poor boy… the handkerchief could heal his physical ailments. However, his depleted energy and tiredness would remain.

"Kiddo," He said, facing the boy, who gave him a sleepy smile in return, "You're not going to be able to beat the Labyrinth in your current condition. You need rest. And you've only got about four hours left."

"No!" Marik felt warm tears starting to leak down his cheeks, "That isn't fair! Those Big Five jerks took up my time! That isn't fair! I can't loose! I won't give up!"

Shocked looks adorned the faces of Bakura, Seto and Tristan as they watched the Egyptian youth climb slowly and unsteadily out of Bakura's arms and struggle to start walking. He lost his footing and the King dived to catch him, both of them ending up sprawled sideways on the dusty ground.

"Marik, _don't_." Bakura warned him, "I know it isn't fair and I'll rectify it." After gaining a confused look from the boy he held, the King continued, looking away, as if shy, "I didn't plan on you encountering the Big Five. No one did. And I realize that you've been cheated out of your time… and I'll…"

Marik waited, unconsciously gripping Bakura's shirt tightly in his hands in anxiousness.

"And," Bakura went on, "…I'm going to wind the clock back an hour or so: to the time it was just before you met the Big Five. Your strength will be replenished, your body will heal and you will have that one hour more to solve the Labyrinth."

"Wait," Tristan cut in, "The Big Five will still be dead and gone after you do this, right?"

"Of course," Bakura grunted, standing up and walking himself and Marik a few meters away from the other two Labyrinthians present, "But this little favor doesn't come free. Marik has to give me something."

Seto growled, "I knew it! You-"

"It's fine Seto." Marik stopped the elf. "But," he turned to Bakura, "I'm afraid I have nothing to give you… unless…"

The King knelt down, smirking as the boy seemed to figure out what he was insinuating.

"You want… another kiss… right?" Marik whispered hesitantly.

Bakura nodded, a serious look now replacing his smirk, "Right. I want you to kiss me," he lent in close to the boy's ear, whispering, "And this time, open your mouth, alright? If you win this challenge than this is going to be all I'm going to get, so I might as well get as much out of this situation as I can."

Marik nodded, watching as Bakura pulled away and spoke to Seto and Tristan, who stood with their jaws slack at the scene.

"This is private. Turn around, both of you," The King ordered, to which Tristan immediately complied. The King also took his black leather gloves off at that point, becoming increasingly annoyed with them as they kept blocking his skin from touching Marik's. He tossed them to the stone floor carelessly, knowing he could simply create another pair whenever he felt like it through magic.

Seto slowly moved to face the hedges, keeping his head at a very discreet angle in order to watch the two, in case Bakura tried to snatch the child away.

Years after that moment took place, he still wished he had closed his eyes and just let the two alone.

Bakura looked at Marik, "I'm waiting… and you're trembling again."

Marik looked away, "Why are you doing this? Why bring me here? What is it about me that makes you do all this… going to such lengths… for a _kiss_?"

Bakura gave a bitter smile, "I can't believe you haven't figured it out yet." He leant in close to Marik, "I've… I'm…" He couldn't say it. Not yet. So he decided to leave his confession to another time. He lowered his head, sighing in defeat, "I'm… waiting for you to kiss me."

Marik nodded, saying, "Just so you know. I don't entirely hate doing this."

Bakura snapped his gaze up to the boy instantly, ready to ask if he had indeed heard that correctly. However Marik cut him off… by finally kissing him.

Seto nearly fell over backwards as his whole body snapped around to face Marik and the King automatically. It _couldn't_ be! It… It wasn't _possible_!"

Tristan noticed that his companion had directly disobeyed the King's orders and slowly moved to see what it was that had made the elf look as though he'd been hit in the stomach. And when Tristan saw, well... he wished he'd just minded his own business too.

Bakura had slid his eyes shut as soon as Marik's lips had met his own. Somehow, he still knew that the elf and the ogre were watching the child and himself, but he couldn't have cared less at that moment. Marik was **kissing** him… _again_! And it felt even more wonderful than the first time...

Being this close to Marik, Bakura was able to take full notice of all the things that had managed to elude his detection before then, such as that soft scent that seemed to drift around the child. It was the scent of lavender; deep, rich and utterly intoxicating, and Bakura knew that it was only faint now because of the battle and turmoil the boy had recently faced, along with his young age. Bakura had a sneaking suspicion that Marik's scent would probably become more potent with age. By the time he was a teenager, he'd most likely be irresistible in all aspects… like his skin… the King couldn't have stopped himself from bringing his hands up to caress that young and unnaturally handsome face, feeling skin that was soft and unblemished, except for the two perfect scars below the blonde's eyes. Bakura opened his mouth once more, running his tongue over Marik closed lips, which the boy immediately parted this time around. The King licked across Marik's bottom lip slowly; carefully savoring every moment he spent in this temporary paradise as he slipped his arms around the young Egyptian's slim waist while said boy –for some wonderful unknown reason –slid his arms around Bakura's neck, deepening the kiss and loosely clutching small portions of Bakura's snow white locks in his hands.

The King could swear he nearly died of pleasure when he fully tasted Marik for the first time, finally allowing his tongue to delve into the slick depths of the child's mouth. It wasn't a common flavor like chocolate or spices. No; Marik had this special taste that couldn't be described. He tasted like all the kindness he had shown his friends in the past; like all the power and fire contained in his soul as he told the King that he wasn't going to give up; like all knowledge that he had leaned ever since he first obtained the book written about the Labyrinth. Bakura could barely stand the heat of it all; the intensity of that taste of… what was it? Bakura could only think of one thing that came close to how Marik Ishtar tasted. He tasted like… like **Magic**; Pure, uncontrollable, powerful, loyal, beautiful… isolated and rare.

Bakura felt his heart sink at that thought. Poor Marik; he must have been so lonely, sitting off in some out-of-the-way corner reading all about these wonderful creatures in the Labyrinth, while everyone around him was too busy or self-centered to take any notice of him. Well, it was their loss, because he, the Goblin King, had noticed this boy and now there was no way those insensitive fiends in the human realm were getting him back.

With that thought, Bakura pulled Marik closer; impossibly closer, so that the kiss deepened, with the King trying to convey just how much he wanted Marik. Not needed. No, a King never needed anything, least of all to have his affections returned by a human… or so Gozaburo had said once.

The kiss was coming to a close, and even though Marik hadn't really done anything during it, he was still exhausted and needing to replenish is currently decreasing air supply.

'I won't ever isolate you Marik,' Bakura thought, letting his and Marik's lips part finally, 'I could give you everything you ever wanted… just,' both the King and the flaxen blonde pulled completely away from each other, '…just give me a chance.'

The first thing Marik thought when he and Bakura stopped kissing was that he had never experienced anything so pleasurable before. The second was that he really wanted to know why the King seemed to love kissing him so much. It wasn't as if Marik had kissed before. He had no idea where to begin. And, as far as he knew, the King was in the same boat, having his only experience on kissing and anything else told – **not** physically taught, but _told_ – to him by the concubines whom lived in his palace, but whom he had never even lay a finger upon, or anyone else for that matter. That had been written in Arthur Hawkins's book as well, and was one of the first things that had drawn Marik's attention to the mysterious King. Bakura was someone who had morals and wouldn't sleep with anyone until he found someone he deemed worthy of his affections.

Once they both had caught their breath, Marik smiled as he looked at Bakura. His smile seemed to drop though as he saw the King's gaze on his arm. He then heard the sound of bells chime into existence as the same wooden framed clock from the Cleaner tunnel earlier appeared behind Bakura, hanging in mid air by some magic spell or another, showing that the time was –

Marik froze.

Nine thirty. He would never make it to save Mokuba with only three and a half hours left. The Goblin King stood up with a somber look gracing his features.

"Bakura!" Marik tried to stand too, but fatigue overpowered him once more, causing the world to spin slightly off its axis in his eyes as he fell to his knees before the King of the Labyrinth as though he was one of the monarch's many servants.

Bakura's eyes widened and he quickly stooped down, hauling the younger boy to his feet roughly and hurriedly before anyone else had a chance to blink. Marik opened his mouth to ask why the King would help him again when said sovereign began to speak.

"Marik," he said quietly to the youth he held, "I'm going to give you an extra hour, as promised." With that said, the minute hand on the clock behind the King began to move backwards, the hour hand moving slowly with it as Marik felt his strength returning to him and his wounds healing. Marik saw the hands stop to make the time eight thirty now, and he checked his arm as he stood on his own two feet without so much as a tremor. His arm was clean. No blood anywhere.

"Thank you, Bakura." Marik started, but then he thought of something. Wasn't it important to call royalty by a title? That was what he had learnt. And he at least owed Bakura _some_ courtesy after he was given extra time. So he started again, "Thank you… um… King Bakura."

The King shuddered automatically. No; Marik calling him that seemed so wrong. He wanted the child to love him, not treat him with indifference.

"Just call me by my name, Marik," Bakura told the puzzled boy, "I don't ever want you to think I'm your superior, as contradictory to this whole challenge as that may sound. Also, don't you _ever _fall to your knees in my presence again. Equals don't bow to each other."

'…And neither do lovers.' His mind seemed to supply of its own will. He shook those thoughts away, finally seeming to get back into the role of 'cold, harsh and inhuman ruler'.

"You now have four and a half hours left to complete your task of solving the Labyrinth, before your baby brother becomes my property. Use your time well."

And, once more, the Goblin King Bakura disappeared slowly into thin air, leaving Marik alone in the alcove surrounded by lush green hedges, and no signs of life…

… Accept for an unfortunate Ogre named Tristan, whom was now back in his once again un-ripped sack hanging from a tree, struggling to get free and howling something that sounded suspiciously like; "That stupid royal bastard! Marik, help me, damn it!"

...

Malik growled venomously as he sat on a bench in Domino Park; the same bench he had seen his little brother Marik sit on so many times in the past, reading his little red book and talking to his friend Joey and some Ra-damned owl that seemed to live around the area. It was now something like five o'clock in the morning and Marik had been missing for a good ten or so hours. Malik felt his patience slipping. Those milkshakes he had bought for Isis and himself had done little to calm her nerves and _very_ little to calm his anger. The only thing getting those beverages seemed to do was incite gossip among the staff and customers of Domino's best all-night bistro. After all; no kid ever came to that place at something like four in the morning before, and especially not two of the famed 'Ishtar-Trait' children. It was a well known fact that Malik and Isis's family was one of the wealthiest in Domino, and also one of the least interrelated. In short; the family interacted with each other as little as possible and spent most of their time burning cash on new games, cars, clothes, etc...

"Come to think of it," Malik mused aloud, "the last time all of us were together was like… two or so years ago, on that 'Christmas' holiday thing that our step-father celebrates."

"No, our mother and step-father went to a party for that." Isis said, coming up from behind the bench, "Anyway, I've checked all around here and you were right. There's nothing. He's not here."

Malik turned his head to face the girl, not bothering to change his slouching position on the wooden seat. "I told you. I checked everywhere a million times. You never listen to me. You could have saved yourself the walk."

Isis looked down at her feat, mumbling, "Yes, I know. But I felt like I had to look anyway. I feel like, if I miss even the smallest clue, Marik and Mokuba are going to die. And it will be even more my fault than in the first place."

"You really are a moron, sis." The blonde male grunted, "They'll be fine. Anyway, if it wasn't Christmas we spent together that year, then what was it?"

"Marik's birthday," She replied, "He turned ten that year, on the twenty third of December. And the first present he got was that little red book of his. You know; the "Labyrinth" one?"

Malik nodded, "I remember. He never lets that book go now. It's like, as long as he has that book with him; he's at home. Or… well; a home where he's got more company than his bedroom mirror." Malik paused, seeming to decide on something, "Damn, we've all been really selfish, ignoring him like that. Poor kid."

Isis was looking at Malik, startled, "You care! I can't believe that you're actually showing compassion for someone! Are you really Malik?"

Malik glared at his sister, "Shut up Isis. We're going home now."

...

Inside the empty throne room, Bakura sat upon his throne again, twirling a crystal ball in his right gloved hand once more, watching the picture of Malik and Isis. So they had finally figured out how much they had lost? Well, that was fine. As long as they didn't expect to get Marik back. _That_ was foolish. The boy's place was in the Labyrinth. It had been since that day Isis had spoken of; Marik's tenth birthday. The day that Bakura had first seen the beautiful young Egyptian child… and fallen in… love…

_**A seventeen year old Bakura stormed through the castle, brimming with barely suppressed fury. Well, technically, he was five thousand years old now; ever since he had put that 'slow ageing' spell on the Labyrinth's population those five millennia back. A lot of good that had done him, he thought. His father had come back three millennia ago, just to catch up with his old friend Solomon and then announce that he would be continuing on his exploration of distant parts of the Labyrinth's realm, then he would move to the human world. **_

_**Well, the day had come about ten years ago. The previous King had fallen in love –the disgusting emotion that it was –and retired to the human world. He'd married and found a career and forgotten all about the son he'd left behind. **_

_**And Bakura had changed… **_

_**The old King's advisor Gozaburo had somehow managed to convince Bakura that various people were to blame for the King's absence. One in particular was old Solomon Mutou; the sage of the castle and the previous King's close friend. Bakura had been steered unknowingly by Gozaburo, causing the present King to exile the old sage -and also, his apprentice Noah- from the castle. Next to be evicted was a person that Bakura had practically grown up with. **_

_**Seto Kaiba. **_

_**At eighteen years of age, Seto rarely spoke to the King. The brunet was always busy looking after his younger sister Adina. Somehow, Gozaburo had lured the King into agreeing that Seto was a waste of time to have in the castle and possibly a threat to keep around –that he spoke above his place to often and had to be punished. Thus, Seto Kaiba was exiled to work and live near the outside wall of the Labyrinth. **_

_**Then came the reason as to the King's current irritation; Bakura's cousin, the fairy Mai Valentine had stopped talking to him. She had started spending all of her damn time with some foolish knight who had obviously fallen head over heels for her. Bakura knew he had to control his anger, otherwise that knight would be history and Mai would be even more upset with him. **_

_**So what could he possibly do to pass the time? How about a peek into the human realm? Yes, spying on others while they lived lives devoid of magic had always amused him. There was this calming feeling that seemed to accompany the knowledge that, at least he had been given power when his father left, whereas, these humans were sometimes abandoned and left with nothing.**_

_**That day, something caught his eye as he gazed into one of his crystals while he lay, somewhat relaxed on his bed. Two adults seemed to be panicking, frantically pointing fingers at each other or waving their arms about in the air as they yelled at the top of their lungs. Bakura clicked his fingers, allowing sound to come though his crystal, as well as image. **_

_**Ah, now it made sense. As he listened, Bakura picked up some clues as to what was going on. The two people were husband and wife, their names being Jason and Cleopatra. It was one of their children's birthdays that day and they had been so wrapped up in work that they had completely forgotten. Now they were rushing like mad to have the cake and presents ready on time. Bakura decided he'd keep watching, and see how this whole disaster turned out.**_

_**Well, evening had come and the parents had managed to throw together a rather nice looking party. The cake was chocolate sponge decorated with a picture of a falcon with its wings spread, ready for flight. Steamers and decorations littered the house everywhere, as well as a multitude of balloons that literally covered the high ceiling of the lounge and dining room, all of which were light purple, silver or gold. Apparently purple was this child's favorite color, judging by the colored wrapping of all the gifts and the purple plastic plates and cups. **_

_**Only one T-bone steak was cooked, specifically for the father, since he was the only member of the family who ate meat. So this birthday kid was a vegetarian too, and his favorite foods were the spicy kind, since that was what the menu mainly consisted of. The mother had said that something called Koshari was his absolute favorite. **_

_**Snow had begun to fall, coating everything in a semi-thick white blanket and giving the town a beautiful chilled appearance. At around six o'clock, a car drove into Jason and Cleopatra's driveway. A boy about sixteen hopped out of the front and out of the back came a very annoyed looking fourteen year old with hair that seemed to stick up in a crazy way. A young girl, around twelve, steeped out from the back seat, her long dark hair flowing after her in a slightly ethereal way, as she carried a boy of three in her arms, his spiky jet black hair mingling with her own. **_

_**They entered the house, taking their scarves and jackets off as they acknowledged the pleasant change in temperature; from icy bitterness to sweet and comfortable warmth, and Bakura's investigation continued. The sixteen year old was called Rishid, while the tanned one with the slightly psychotic look and the insane-looking eyes was Malik. Next was Isis; the only girl of the group, and the baby boy was named Mokuba. **_

_**The birthday boy was being dropped off by the parents of some kid named Joey Wheeler in a couple of minutes. And Bakura had finally learnt the birthday boy's name. After having been referred to as 'he' all day, someone had finally said the name of the damn child.**_

_**Marik Ishtar.**_

_**For some reason, Bakura liked that name instantly. He had no idea why, though. After all; it was just a name, very similar to that Malik kid, in fact. Oh, how Bakura hoped that this birthday boy wasn't going to look as homicidal as Malik…**_

_**Bakura ignored his personal assistant Emily Ioakire when she entered, as he saw what one of the parents had identified as Mrs. Wheeler's car pulling into the Ishtar driveway. The first to step out from the driver's seat was a fairly young woman –the aforementioned mother, no doubt. She possessed short curly hair that was a washed out light brown color and eyes to match. Not that you could really see her eyes all that much over all the heavy winter clothing she wore. Her children hopped out of the seat after her –one was a small blond boy with warm honey-brown eyes that seemed to fight off the chill that tried to cling to his pale skin with their warm and sweet glow alone. He looked about ten, but Bakura knew that he wasn't Marik. Marik would have dark skin like the rest of the Ishtar family. **_

_**Following him was a girl that looked to be about a year or two younger than him, her shoulder length auburn hair was pulled into a messy braid and her breath came out as small puffs of steam in the frosty air. Next would be Marik…**_

"_**Master…?" Emily asked in a slightly worried tone at seeing her master's attention so completely rapped up in his crystal gazing, "Are you well? You have been watching those weakling humans all day long. Perhaps it is time for a rest? A stroll in the castle gardens, maybe?"**_

_**The King turned his head to better see his apprentice, since he was lying with his stomach pressed to his bed covers at the moment, his legs splayed out behind him and his arms in a folded position on which his head had been resting prior as he watched the crystal that lay just in front of him. He felt like one of those damned teenage humans who liked to watch those television things all day long… not a particularly pleasant thought. Also, the position wasn't really becoming for a King as powerful as he, but –for some reason –it was okay to show a little weakness around Emily. She was his servant and, therefore, new her place… and she may also have been his only real friend at that moment…**_

_**Bakura looked back at his crystal, then once again to Emily again. The personal assistant always new best, right?**_

"_**Alright Emily," he sighed in defeat, "If you think a break would do me some good then I suppose I can give you the benefit of the doubt at least this once."**_

_**Emily looked as if he'd just asked for her hand in marriage. It amazed Bakura; just a simple 'yes, I'll listen to you' had made this girl's day. **_

"_**I just want to see this damn birthday-brat that everyone has been going crazy over, and then I think I'll take a nap or something." Bakura's words made his assistant's face droop in dejection.**_

"_**Oh," She said simply, then asked, deadpan once more; "Would the master mind if I had a look at this brat and his crazy family too?"**_

_**Bakura sat up straight on his bed, stretching, "Of course not," he then lent back on both arms, crossing his legs, "Come sit down then. You won't be able to see from over there."**_

_**Emily nodded; blushing somewhat as she slid onto the large bed awkwardly, tucking her legs underneath her and resting her hands in her lap, obviously trying to avoid fidgeting. She was focusing intently on the crystal, obviously trying to busy herself so as to not meet Bakura's gaze.**_

_**Bakura smiled. Not a smirk, but a real smile; something that was a real rarity ever since he took his position as King of the Labyrinth. She looked so cute right then… it was interesting how around everyone else in the Labyrinth, she was a born seductress… and yet, around him, she'd always seemed so shy and unsure of herself. Bakura didn't want that. He wanted to see Emily be the normal, witty, outgoing girl he new she could be… but, how to let her know it was okay to be like that in front of him…?**_

_**Wait, didn't humans have a sort of thing they did to incite comfort in the ones close to them…? Yes, they did! They hugged each other and kissed each other. Was that what Bakura was supposed to do? He'd never had anyone to tell him how to properly comfort someone or show affection because his father was the only one who could have taught him… and his father was always too busy even before he left for good.**_

_**Bakura decided to try his luck. He'd kiss Emily and make her feel more comfortable around him. So, without delay, the King grabbed his apprentice gently by the wrist and brought her close in a welcoming hug, seeing her blush increase drastically.**_

"_**Master…?" She questioned hesitantly, as Bakura placed two fingers under her chin and raised her face to look at him. He then slowly bent down, ready to try kissing for the first time… lips only inches away from each other's… closer… **_

"_**HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MARIK!" A chorus of voices burst from the crystal on the bed, causing both Bakura and Emily to automatically avert their attention to whatever scene was showing in the gem.**_

…_**And Bakura fell in love.**_

_**He was standing in the middle of the lounge room, surrounded by all the people Bakura had seen previously, but in the King's eyes, he far outshined them all. Marik Ishtar's lordly features seemed to strike a chord in the king's black heart… which was funny, because he could have sworn that the damn thing had just given up and disappeared long ago. Oh, but that child… Bakura felt this sudden itch develop in his fingers as he thought of running his hands over Marik's soft looking tanned skin or through those golden strands of hair… across that gorgeous face and those succulent looking lips…**_

"_**Thank you everyone!" Marik smiled appreciatively, and said it a light and velvety voice that Bakura thought only an angel could have possibly had, "I'm so happy! Thank you for this party!' Marik then pulled something from the pile of –now opened –presents and Bakura's eyes immediately narrowed… It was that book; the stupid little 'Labyrinth guide,' written by that traitor Arthur Hawkins, when he left the Labyrinth behind. How dare that conspirator write anything to help the humans figure out that the Labyrinth was real! What kind of stupid, irresponsible person would ever even think of…**_

"_**Marik's got a crush!" Malik's voice echoed from the crystal, causing Bakura to focus once more on the scene, which was now centered on Malik –whom was holding the 'Labyrinth' book high above his head while snickering –and Marik –whom was jumping around Malik, trying to retrieve the book the elder held –while the rest of the family looked on, interested.**_

"_**Oh," Cleopatra inquired, "And who –pray tell –does our little Marik have a crush on?"**_

"_**No –one," Marik panted as he narrowly missed the book once again, "Malik, give it back!"**_

"_**Marik likes the king in this book!" Malik accused, "I've heard him wishing himself away at night. Haven't you?" Malik started to mimic his younger brother; "Oh, Goblin King, Goblin King, wherever you may be, take me far away from here!" Then he burst out laughing, clutching his hands to his stomach, causing the book to drop from his grasp. Marik immediately dived for it, snatching it up and glaring at his older brother, tears falling silently from his eyes.**_

_**Malik stopped his outburst when he realized that no one else was really laughing along with him and he turned to stare around at the shocked faces of his parents and the angry scowl that had manifested itself on Isis's features. **_

"_**So, you want to leave us!" She pointed an accusing finger at Marik, growling out the accusation confidently, "You don't even CARE that mother and father went to all this trouble for YOUR birthday!"**_

"_**No Isis, I swear, that's not it! I–" Marik started, but his father cut off his defense.**_

"_**Isis, please," Jason reasoned, "It's normal to have a crush at Marik's age."**_

"_**But he's spending his valuable time wishing himself away to some stupid fairy palace or something! Aren't you at least worried about his mental health?" Isis finished her statement, then swerved to Marik quickly, "Baby brother, I'm worried about you. And don't you think it's a little selfish that you're totally wishing that we weren't around, when you know how much we all care about you! I mean, look at how we all put this party together in one day after we forgot your birth-" Isis halted abruptly, realization and dread settling in her stomach, "Oh no…"**_

_**Bakura could see the heartbroken expression on Marik's face clearly.**_

"_**You forgot my birthday…?" The tanned boy asked warily, almost afraid of the answer, "You made this whole party out of guilt?"**_

_**Accountable faces filled the room. Even Rishid –whom Bakura had overheard someone say that he adored Marik more than anything –had been so caught up with work that he had forgotten as well.**_

_**Marik growled and Bakura was intrigued; this beautiful angel seemed to have a fighting spirit somewhere inside of him as well. **_

"_**I can't believe you…" Marik seethed, "You tell me I'm ungrateful when you can't even remember the day I was born! Why would you even –"**_

"_**Mommy?" **_

_**Everyone's gazes were immediately diverted to the tired-looking three year old at the bottom of the stairs, rubbing his eyes confusedly. "Mommy, I'm hungry."**_

_**Cleopatra immediately jumped in to action; running over, scooping the boy up in her arms and walking towards the kitchen, crooning to the boy, "Of course dear. Now, what would you like to eat?"**_

_**She stopped momentarily and turned back to talk to Marik once more, "Oh, I'm sorry Marik, I forgot about… you. Where did he go?"**_

_**The young Egyptian was no where to be seen. **_

_**Bakura, of course, knew where he resided. The boy had escaped to his room just after his mother had set her course for the kitchen. Now, Marik lay, face down on his bed with his face buried in his pillow as he cried. He clutched the little red book in his hand tightly, as if it were the only thing in the world that was keeping him sane at that moment. **_

"_**Where are you…?" He whispered low, "I wish myself away every night Goblin King... even before I got a copy of this book as my own and when I had to go to the library everyday just to read it... to read about you. You have to be real. The Labyrinth has to be real; it seems so wonderful… I want to go there too… Why won't you take me away…?"**_

_**Bakura felt his chest swell with longing; He wanted to take Marik away… but the child hadn't said the right words. And, until the right words were said, nothing could be done. On top of that was the one major clause of the whole 'wishing away' deal too; you couldn't wish yourself away. **_

"_**At least send some sort of sign if you know I'm here." Marik begged, turning his face away from his pillow, to look at the miniature novel he held, "Help me… Mokuba takes all their attention even when they know I'm sad… Help me, please… Why haven't you ever answered me…?"  
**_

"_**Because this is the first time I've ever seen you, Beautiful…" Bakura offered the soft excuse before he could even register it's presence on his lips. Of course, Marik hadn't heard it… Unfortunately, someone else did. And when the King heard his apprentice gasp in his ear and her hold instinctively tighten slightly; he knew he had just made the biggest mistake of his extremely long life… **_

Bakura sighed heavily. After that, he had finally realized that he was still holding a stunned Emily and he quickly let go of her. He couldn't remember how many lame excuses he had used to account for what he had said; Pity for the child, mocking Marik's situation, and temporary insanity were all in there though… Whatever had popped into his mind at that moment, he had voiced in the hopes that his apprentice would forget about the whole debacle. However, Bakura knew Emily was smarter than that. Even now, he was sure she remembered the day as well as he did… and she _knew_… She knew he was in love with the very same boy that was trapped in the Labyrinth at that exact moment…

It was needless to say that while uttering every excuse he had that day, he had unwound his arms from the girl and shifted back, until he was off the bed and nearly out the door, his crystal locked firmly in his hand; enclosed comfortingly over the crying image of the ten year old Marik Ishtar. No kiss for Emily. Nothing. He had just… He couldn't explain it. One second; the young brunette had seemed so appealing to him… but then he had seen Marik and… there was just something there; a spark; A small flame that had just burst into a raging inferno at the mere sight of the boy. The feeling had been **intense**… and it still was…

Bakura buried his face into the palm of his left hand, propping his elbow up on his knee, while the other held his crystal. That feeling of want –of _need_ –shouldn't have been there. A true king wouldn't have fallen to this terrible ailment… love. Love was for the feeble and pathetic simpletons of the world. But when he touched Marik –held him, _kissed_ him –he never felt weaker… He felt stronger; happier; more alive than ever before.

The King sat up straight, removing his face from his hand and giving a small sigh of defeat. Okay, he'd admit it. He wasn't going to be stupid and immature like everyone seemed to be nowadays. He was going to say it; admit that the same damned curse that had struck down his father, and had made the man such a bastard, had now taken the new King claim as well. There was no more denying what he felt or what was there… He was going to finally say it… say that… say that…

Bakura looked out the window with a broken expression, "I am in love with Marik Ishtar… and he doesn't care for me at all…"

When had this gotten so out of hand? Bakura thought that getting Marik would be easy; the boy wished his brother away, wish granted, offer Marik a life in the Labyrinth, the child accepted, they got married and lived happily ever after. It didn't seem like such a big thing really. He had even joked around with it at first; calling Marik his love at one point even, but he never expected that fight between the Egyptian boy and that gargantuan brute Lector. He thought Marik was going to die and for the first time in his life… he had been completely terrified. It was as if he would cease to be if Marik was killed… as if his heart would just give out on him…

Shivering from the morbid thought, Bakura prayed that he'd never have to go through that… what a horrible thing to endure… No, he wasn't thinking about death; that was no problem because it's inevitable. But life without knowing Marik was still breathing and healthy… now _that_ really frightened him.

So now Bakura had admitted that he truly loved Marik, and out loud no less. Now, all the monarch had to do was win the boy's heart before the child either conquered the Labyrinth, or worse –fell in love with Seto Kaiba instead.

One thing was certain; some things really _were_ easier said than done.

...

Marik sighed in relief; Tristan Taylor was now_ finally_ free from the Ra-damned bag-prison that had held him. Seto though, had come and gone. Marik guessed that the King must have sent the elf back to where he had been an hour before the spell was cast, then Seto had to run all the way back to Marik's currant location. He hadn't shown his face though; only just peeking through the hedges to check if everything was okay, then leaving. But Marik had seen him anyway and smiled slightly. It was nice to know someone cared about him.

So now Tristan the ogre and Marik stood in the alcove, finally able to see each other properly face to face since their first –somewhat stranger –encounter.

"Merciful Ra in the heavens…" Marik's awed voice broke through the awkward silence, "You're humongous!" At seeing Tristan's downcast expression, the tanned youth immediately corrected himself; "Not that that's a bad thing! Not at all!"

Tristan seemed to be the type to recover from any previous maltreating quite easily, since he smiled brightly, "Well, that's good to hear! I'm glad I'm okay with you. After all, I wouldn't want my little hero not to like me!"

Marik blushed faintly, taking at step back in surprise, "H –Hero! What? No! I'm no–"

"Of course you are, pal!" Tristan interrupted him, "You saved me from those horrible Big Five guys, and now I'm here to help you in any way I can!"

"Help me?" The tanned boy felt a twinge of hope at those words, "Then, by any chance, do you know how to get to the castle at the centre of the Labyrinth from here?"

"Me?" Tristan pointed to himself –obviously out of habit –and answered, "Nope. Sorry kid. But why would you want to go there? I mean, I'd be afraid to go there after the Goblin King just kissed me… not to mention really grossed out."

Marik couldn't help but give a small laugh at Tristan's disgusted face –the guy acted a bit immature for his supposed age.

Marik finally answered, "I have to solve the Labyrinth to rescue my baby brother… and I like Bakura. I mean, he's been my idol for years. It's hard to stop liking someone just like that."

"Okay, I'm going to ignore the fact that you just called the King by his actual name and the small fact that you've become temporarily insane –"

"Insane! Why say that?"

"Because you said you actually _liked_ him. _No one_ likes the King. He's horrible."

"He's nice to me. Anyway, I really need to get moving. Good bye Tristan."

Marik had only managed to move a few steps when he felt the ground fly out from under him as two large hairy arms lifted him up, and onto Tristan's shoulders in a piggyback sort of fashion.

"Hey –Woah! Tristan put me down!"

"You're really light! You know that, Little Hero?" Was the ogre's chuckle-filled reply, "It's like lifting air! Honest!"

"Aren't all ogres strong though?" Marik inquired, struggling to climb down and off of the larger male's back.

"Yeah," Tristan agreed, scooping him up into an embrace once more, "All ogres are pretty strong; especially me! I have super strength! I could punch that wall into rubble in no time flat!" He then tossed the stunned blonde haired boy high up into the air, laughing as Marik screamed in indignation each time he was thrown and caught.

"Oh my Ra! Tristan! No! Let –me –DOWN! Ah!"

The ogre chuckled and caught the child one final time, before setting him down safely on his own two feet.

Tristan knelt down, giving the Egyptian a soft poke in his stomach, "Well, we better get going if we're going to get to the castle in time."

Marik reeled, "You're going to help me?"

"Sure," the pointy-haired boy said, "We're buddies, right?" And he held his hand out.

Marik stared at it disbelievingly. Another person wanted to be his friend? This was too good to be true! Marik's hand met Tristan's in a friendly handshake and the younger boy confirmed their new bond with a smile; "Yeah, we're buddies!"

And now both new traveling companions had turned to leave the alcove where the famed battle took place, when they noticed the weird change in the landscape. Now, in one of the stone walls of the space, two thick wooden doors without doorknobs had materialized; each with its own doorknocker right in the center.

Each doorknocker was shaped as a face, although both had distinctive characteristics. The stone doorknocker on the left-hand door had a wide forehead, a big nose and a square chin that jutted out. He also possessed a head of messy looking dreadlock-shaped hair, beady mocking eyes and –most importantly –a large steel ring that passed through both his ears which was evidently the actual tool used to knock with. The doorknocker on the door to the right looked quite friendly in comparison; comprised of a heart-shaped face with large eyes, bushy eyebrows, scars on his chin and wild hair that seemed to stick straight up of its own accord, reminding Marik of a wild wave in the ocean. And, of course, a wide metal ring just as the previous doorknocker had, only this one's ring was held firmly in his mouth and it looked like it would need to be removed by hand, being too far back in the man's clamped shut jaws to just simply be spat out.

"It's very rude to stare!" Snapped a rough male's voice, causing both Marik and Tristan to jump in fright and look at the left doorknocker whom –as amazing as it seemed –was the one to have spoken…correction; shouted.

"I'm sorry," Marik rushed to apologize, but he was halted by a string of indecipherable jargon from the right doorknocker which sounded something like; "Ifsnahhgooffalinahif, hefafeafahahosf!"

Tristan gave the young boy a confused look, and Marik decided it was time to clear away the language roadblocks then and there, so he stepped up to the right doorknocker and grabbed hold of the steel ring in it's mouth. With an exertion-filled heave, Marik promptly toppled back into Tristan's waiting arms, with the steel halo now resting harmlessly in his hands.

"Oh, thank you!" The right doorknocker immediately called jovially, "Thank you a thousand times over my wonderful companion! It is so good to be able to speak again now that my mouth has been liberated of that accursed ring! Thank you!"

"Um…" Marik stared down at the loop in his hands, not believing that something so harmless looking could cause such misery. Then again, Mokuba never looked all that intimidating either…

"WHAT?" The left doorknocker shouted in question, having seen the young boy's lips moving and thinking that he had said something important, since he couldn't actually hear anything due to the ring through his ears, "WHAT? SPEAK UP!"

"Never mind him, my Tiny Traveler. It's no good talking to him anyway, because –as I stated earlier before you ridded me of my ring –he's as deaf as a post."

"You stupid water-lover, all you ever do is grumble!"

"You're one to talk; all you do is moan and complain!"

The left doorknocker sniffed in childish resolve, "No good; can't hear you."

The right knocker gave a heavy groan on frustration before turning to Marik and speaking again.

"Sorry about that, Tiny Traveler." He apologized swiftly, "Anyhow, my name is Mako Tsunami, and my grouchy acquaintance is Johnny Steps."

"I'm pleased to meet you," The blonde Egyptian offered, "My name is Marik Ishtar and my friend here is Tristan Taylor." Marik motioned to the ogre behind him who had taken a habit of fidgeting with Mako's metal loop, which the younger boy had passed to him.

"Hi," The teenage beast put in, "So, where do these doors lead?"

"We have no idea," Mako said, "We're just the knockers. But if you'd like to get through a door, you must knock and then it will open."

"Okay," Marik acknowledged, then took the ring from Tristan's grasp and moved to put it back in Mako's mouth, but something unexpected happened.

…Mako clamped his jaws tightly shut.

"Oh, come on! I have to knock!" Marik protested, pushing the loop against the doorknockers lips, to which he received a muffled 'Nuh uh!' as a reply.

"Ha!" Johnny gave out a loud bark laugh, "He doesn't want his ring back in his mouth! Well, I can't say I blame him."

Marik was at a loss as to what to do, when he suddenly noticed that for Mako to have his mouth closed so tightly; he would be holding his breath if he wasn't breathing through his nose… and no one could hold their breath forever…

Mako was truly taken by surprise when Marik's thumb and forefinger pinched down on his nostrils and restricted his air flow and extremely frustrated when he ended up gasping to replenish his air supply and received a very familiar-looking ring stuffed in his mouth once again.

"Sorry," Marik apologized as he took a firm hold of the ring and gave two shrill thumps on the door.

As said door swung open, Marik saw a long dark tunnel; its floor was a hexagonal stone tiled path and its rock walls were barely visible from beneath the thick layers of lush green vines and shrubbery that clung off them, dripping small rivers of water onto the walkway below. Small streams of golden light shone dimly from a right corner turn in the path up ahead, proving that there was definitely an exit further down; perhaps into a forest? The tunnel certainly looked as though it was the entrance to somewhere thriving and undisturbed.

The tanned child took an involuntary step backward, and Tristan –seeing the boy show any sort of fear or reluctance for the first time ever since meeting him –was rather shocked. But then again –as everyone else seemed to have done in regards to Marik –Tristan had also forgotten that the boy was only a child –twelve years old or something like that. Marik should have been at home playing with action figures or the like, not facing his worst nightmares in a realm where there wasn't even any of the modern luxuries and technology Tristan was sure he'd be used to.

"I'll go first," The ogre offered, stepping in front and holding back a chuckle at Marik's almost relieved look.

"Thanks Tristan," the smaller male gave him a hug and pulled back, laughing slightly, "Seto was right; you do smell a little."

"Yeah, yeah," He waved it off and turned around to start walking down the tunnel. After a few moments though, he realized that there were no footsteps following him. When he turned around he saw Marik shutting the large wooden door they had walked through with a sizable metal loop held in his hand, which he then tossed up ahead of them, causing the object to clank noisily as it rolled away.

The Ogre smiled at Marik fondly when he heard Mako's voice echo through the closed door saying: 'Thank you, my Tiny Traveler!'

Marik Ishtar wasn't just loyal and brave.

He was chivalrous too…

**Well; not much of a cliff hanger unfortunately, but it seemed like the best place to leave it. Besides; one can't give away too much in a chapter. Is anyone curious about what happened to princess Mai and her Knight friend? Who liked the fight scene between Marik and Lector? Or the King finally admitting that he was in love? Or the steamy kiss between our two main characters? Or the flashback? I'd love to hear what your favorite scene was!**

**PLEASE REVIEW! **


	8. Chilly Down

**Hello again, everyone! I hope you're all having a good year so far! Sorry this update has taken long, but as soon as I got back to school, my teachers practically threw all this work at me! And they're still going! This chapter isn't as long as my last one but I had a lot on fun writing it. And don't anyone worry about me getting tired of writing fanfics, because I only stop writing when others stop reviewing! ^_^**

**Thanks to all my reviewers! You all are seriously awesome! Your kind words inspire me! By the way, thank you to those reviewers who told me about Tristan's 'My voice gives me super strength' line! I checked out Littlekuriboh's videos on YouTube and I've never laughed so hard! I swear that I had no idea they existed when I wrote the last chapter. Personally, Tristan's voice from Battle City sounds better than the early version and it suits him better for this fic because of the angst scenes. **

**Also, I'm sorry to all those people who have noticed that I write with a lot of detail. It's just my writing style and I don't even realize I'm doing it half the time. But I'm not going to stop the detail… maybe tone it down a bit, but writing detail is a passion of mine. I love describing how the characters look! ^_^**

**Expect some surprises this chapter! There are pitfalls, magic and an unlikely friendship. Also; some new introductions that aren't in the "Labyrinth" movie. Enjoy! ^_^**

_**1**__**st**__** Labyrinth…**_

**Chapter 8: Chilly Down…**

Marik Ishtar wasn't just loyal and brave.

He was chivalrous too…

… But his younger brother was a sniveling, spineless waste of life. That was what Bakura still believed, despite the fact that he had admitted to the similarities between the two prior.

Emily didn't think so… In her opinion, _both_ of them could just go take a long grand flying leap of an extremely short precipice.

Neither party currently residing in the castle's throne room voiced their opinions though, because there was obviously no point in the matter. The King's beliefs would always triumph if the subject was one on which he was passionate… and the King was nothing if not _exceedingly_ passionate about Marik Ishtar and his views on the boy. As for Mokuba Ishtar-Trait; the young boy had been foisted off on one of Bakura's concubines, in order to be locked up. After all, if the poor ladies weren't being used for their designed purpose, why not make them useful elsewhere?

...

Vivian Wong hated her position with a conviction not known to mere mortal man. When she had been given to the King as a gift, her previous master had intended her to be 'used' by the king regularly thanks to her soft and seductive appearance. Unfortunately for her, the second her hands had moved to unclasp the ties of her tunic, the King had handed her the keys to the dungeon and told her to go make the regular inspection in place of a ill guard.

The young woman – give or take a few millennia, of course – unconsciously tightened her grip on the small hand she held and cast her gaze downward to the current source of her unbridled agitation. She had been ordered to lock this young boy Mokuba in one of the dungeon cells. And oh, how she hated the dungeon; dark, filthy and decaying as it was. Gozaburo ruled this part of the castle… enough said.

Mokuba didn't struggle or squirm in the growling woman's grip as they crossed the threshold – from golden painted walls, chandeliers and wide illuminated corridors baring rich silken rugs on polished tiles the color of turnip's flesh – into disaster. The dungeon walls were bare of any trimmings – paint or tapestries – and the bricks and mortar that comprised the very bowls of the castle shone unashamedly in all their disgusting glory.

Vivian's spiked heels clacked noisily with every step she took on the grimy and dust covered stone floor until she stopped abruptly in front of a worm-eaten wooden door.

...

The faint jingling of keys greeted small pointed ears that had been starved of sound for what seemed like an eternity and dainty feminine eyelids slowly pried themselves open to reveal bruised plum colored eyes. The crumpled figure was that of a young girl, her wild raven hair in knots and tangles, face dirty, and her once canary yellow lace dress now a mess of tattered rags, stained brown from the grime of the dungeon cell she resided in. Also, the translucent wings at her back were crumpled from such disuse.

The girl licked her chapped lips, reminding herself that it had been less than a month since she had been thrown in here, and there was still hope of someone rescuing her… someone tall and sharp-witted… with his deep blue eyes set in an icy glare…

The darkness around her was suddenly banished as a blinding white light streamed into the stale smelling cell. Vivian Wong had opened the door.

Of course, the youngster hadn't seen that it was that vile creature because of the light blinding her momentarily. She just knew it was her because Vivian was the person that came down here every couple of days to feed her some stale bread and water.

"Ah, Adina," the vixen's voice rang out in a satisfied tone, "There you are, little elf. How are you enjoying your stay at the palace? Though, I do suppose you were treated a lot better the last time you were here."

The girl hunched up on the floor gave a tired glare that fizzled out almost instantaneously as she saw the small child that Vivian seemed to be escorting.

"No… please do not tell me…" The girl – Adina – seemed to loose all hope at that point, "…but he is just a child. Vivian, please, do not put him down here…" Tears started to well up in her eyes, falling down her cheeks relentlessly; tears made of hatred and frustration and fear, "This place… it is worse than death… it could scar him for life."

"You are not to address me as anything other than 'Ms. Wong', remember?" Vivian's smile was soaked in vinegar, "Also, you should know by now that nothing is worse than death, princess. Besides, he won't be staying for long. If his brother fails the king's test, he will be shipped off the fairy village."

"And how _is_ his majesty, the King?" Adina asked, watching as the youngest of the trio was shoved roughly forward into the cell.

"He is still none the wiser about you being here. Now isn't that ironic? I doubt Gozaburo will ever let it slip about your location."

Adina lowered her eyes dejectedly. Gozaburo had been the one to imprison her here and Vivian was the only other person to know of that fact. Her older brother thought she was in the fairy village, everyone in the fairy village thought she was with her brother and everyone in the castle thought either one of the two. Yes, it was ironic, wasn't it?

Vivian continued, "Also, the King is still as cold as ice and snow to all… but there has been a rather… _interesting_ development having happened as of late… I'm afraid his heart of ice may be melting."

Adina tensed at this new information, imagining what on earth could possibly cause the notorious Goblin King to become more pleasant when the idea of that alone was questionable enough. However, the maiden wasn't given enough time to ask, as the virgin concubine slammed the cell door shut and locked it once more.

...

"Whoa, this place really _is_ creepy." Tristan Taylor mumbled as he and Marik trudged through the dense woods of the Labyrinth.

Marik nodded absentmindedly as he let his gaze roam around. They were currently walking on a narrow dirt track with dense, lush trees and bushes surrounding them. Everything – from branches to spider webs to the fresh earth beneath their feet – glistened with water and sparkles of glittering dust. A light damp mist hung in the air around them, reflected golden by the hazy shafts of sunlight that pierced through the treetops high above.

_This section of the Labyrinth completely contradicts the previous stone mazes encountered. Whilst the rock mazes may rely on a keen eye and a good knowledge of puzzles and the cleaner may be outdone by speed and quick thinking, there are no rules when it comes to the Labyrinth's deadly woods. _

_Mystify Forest is a cornucopia of danger and treachery. Traps hide around every turn and never reveal themselves until the target is in sight. There is no set track to follow as the dirt pathways that map this area magically rearrange themselves after every new challenger that has faced the Labyrinth and died. To this day, no one has ever conquered this section of the Labyrinth… but if one would wish to try; their task would not be meaningless. Wondrous things may be seen here… for this is where kind fairies live… ruled by the Fairy Queen. _

Marik remembered dear old Professor Hawkins's book and its words of caution on this place… but to see a fairy as beautiful as the novel had described… what a fantastic thought!

'And Seto said that these fairies are the friendly ones!' He mused, an exited flare sparking in his amethyst eyes.

"Ah! Hey, **look out**!"

_Traps hide around every turn… _

A sudden weight slammed into Marik, knocking him clear off his feet and he gasped, seeing Tristan slip away from him quickly and down into a trap door in the earth.

…_and never reveal themselves until the target is in sight…_

Marik grasped futilely for the ogre's hand, but met nothing but air as the beast disappeared down the shaft and into darkness, screaming all the while. Marik felt firm hands grasp his shoulders and yank him backwards as the trap's door sung upwards and slammed closed, ready for its next victim.

Tristan had pushed him out of the way of the trapdoor, and now… the ogre had paid the price.

Laughter resounded in the air; five different variations of it, but all still so alike; so _mocking_.

Marik jumped to attention, wrenching free of his attacker's grip and starting to run, just barely missing another two attempted ambushes by the shadowed figures that chased after him. They leaped at him from all sides, and each time Marik swerved and ducked, not stopping as he ran on. He saw the lower canopy of the famous Mystify Forest rush by him in a blur as he skidded to avoid another shadow.

"Tristan, no… he… can't… be gone," he panted, his legs like lead, "Help me, someone… _Please_!" He gasped out the last part as one of the shadows finally managed to pin him to the ground from behind. A burst of blood-red flames flared in front of his eyes and his fear sent renewed strength pumping through his veins; "SETO! _HELP ME_!"

...

Seto Kaiba jolted to attention.

"Marik," he gasped, turning quickly… to find the Goblin King leaning against a stone wall and watching him intently.

"Setlist, tell me something: Why is it that he always screams _your_ name?" Bakura asked. "Do you have any idea what I would do… to have him scream mine instead, whist yours is muted from his lips?"

Seto didn't miss a beat, growling; "If you can think of anything more inhumane than what you are doing to the child now, then I'll applaud you in your new low level of morality. Let me pass."

"Let you pass?" Bakura echoed, "And pray tell, where may you be off to in such a hurry?"

Seto lowered his gaze to the floor, clenching his fists. Marik's voice was ringing through his mind as loud and a clear as a brass bell. He had to help the child. Gozaburo could ridicule him and the King could call him weak and stupid… but it was existential now; he _had_ to assist Marik…

Seto suddenly felt something brush against his forearm. Skin: it felt like skin… warm soft skin.

When he looked up, his body tensed, seeing the feared Goblin King so close, not even a few feet away, staring down at the golden armlet as his fingers traced the shimmering metal. Bakura wore a murderous expression.

"What on earth made this child so generous as to give such a treasure to a vagabond like you?" Bakura's tone was laced with genuine curiosity.

"Not give. Lend. And it's not really any of your business in any case, now is it?" Seto pushed past the King and began to run, but something snared his legs and sent him tumbling to the rough stone path. He craned his neck to see Bakura walking towards him leisurely, holding one end of the long coil of rope that had captured the elf.

"How many times must I remind you, Setlist?" He asked in a mock disappointed tone, "I am the most powerful being in the known and unknown universe, with the ability to conjure anything I wish at will," he held up the rope in example, "and you… you're an insignificant bug beneath my feet with not an once of magic to your name."

...

Marik looked to either side of him at the blue-haired boys that held him captive. They looked no older than himself; they were all short, with black eyes and wearing gaudy pink and yellow carnival-like clothes. There were only five of them but their strength was admirable. The eldest instructed the two holding Marik to hold him sitting on a log by the blazing fire that had startled the young Egyptian earlier.

"Welcome, Guest!" the eldest boomed, waving his hands around, as if to present their current location to Marik. The child didn't really see anything too spectacular; they were in a small shadowed clearing while a fire crackled behind him. Marik could feel its heat against his back.

As the leader of the miniature fiesta saw Marik struggling against his followers grip, he continued with a smug grin, "My name is Espa Roba and these are my younger brothers! We are the Fire Gang, also known as the Roba Troop, recognized far and wide for our psychic powers!"

Marik raised his gaze to meet Espa's with plain wonder, "…Psychic? You can see the future? Then tell me, will I win against the Goblin King?"

Espa laughed, "Don't expect it, my friend. It isn't the likeliest of outcomes. Besides, you are too presumptuous. We have you captive and won't let you leave until we're done playing with you."

"Playing?" Marik echoed, dazed, as he felt his hands released.

"Oh, and running isn't an option." Espa warned, watching the tanned boy already making a break for it, only to be blocked off by his brothers, "See what I mean?"

A sudden fast beat filled the air and the fire roared, stretching upwards like a molten umbrella as embers fell like burning rain.

"You think the King is the only one with the power to make music?" Espa laughed, "Watch this!"

The beat rose in a crescendo, before exploding into a spine-chilling undertone and a nice pace that reminded Marik of the rapper's music Joey loved to listen to.

Espa sang, with his brothers echoing him in the background;

"_When the sun goes down_,"

"When the sun goes down,"  
"_And the bats are back to bed_,"

"And the bats are back,"  
"_The brothers come 'round_,"

"The brothers come 'round,"  
"_I get out of my dirty bed_,"

"My dirty bed,"  
"_I shake my pretty little head_!"

"I shake my pretty little head,"  
"_Tap my pretty little feet_!"

"Tap my pretty little feet,"  
"_Feeling brighter than sunlight_," Sang one brother.  
"_Louder than thunder_," Screamed another  
"_Bouncing like a yo-yo, wooh_!" Espa grabbed some lit sticks off the fire and began to juggle them expertly as the whole troop copied him, performing various carnival tricks.

"_Don't got no problems_," Espa crooned.

"No problems!" His brothers copied again.  
"_Ain't got no suitcase_,"

"No suitcase!"  
"_Ain't got no clothes to worry about_,"

"No clothes to worry about!"  
"_Ain't got no real estate or jewelry or gold mines to hang me up_!" The eldest Roba screeched at a fast pace.

Marik wanted to cover his ears, but he couldn't. Something was holding him, pinning him to the dirt he stood on and weaving a spell to wipe his mind free of all previous cares.

"_I just throw in my hand_,"

"Throw in my hand!"  
"_With the chilliest bunch in the land_,"

"In the land!"  
"_They don't look much_," A Roba sang as he did a cartwheel.  
"_They sure chilly, chilly_," The next performed a summersault.  
"_They positively glow, glow, Ha_!" Espa threw a burning branch to Marik and laughed when he dropped it from fright.

Espa and his troop kept singing while Marik shook his head to clear it.

'Those horrible creatures!' He cursed, "They're trying to brainwash me! But I won't listen to the music! I won't!'

"We got him now, big bro!" The tiniest Roba brother said and Espa grinned maniacally.

"Ya hear that boys?" He yelled, "Sing louder! He's almost ours!"

The entire group practically screamed;

"_Chilly down with the fire gang_!"  
_Think small with the fire gang_!"

"It's the only way,"  
"_Bad hep with the fire gang_!"

"A smile a day keeps the doctor away,"  
"_When your thing gets wild_!  
_Chilly down_!  
_Chilly down with the fire gang_!"

"Hey, I'm a wild child,"  
"_Act tall with the fire gang_!"

"Woo, walk tall,"  
"_Good times, bad food_!"

"Yeah,"  
_When your thing gets wild  
Chilly down, chilly down_!"

Marik gritted his teeth. He wasn't going to listen! He summoned all his strength – both mental and physical – and broke the part of the spell binding his feet. He started to run out of the alcove, while the music followed him relentlessly.

Espa started, "Quick brothers! Get your knives! Our pray flees!"

Once again Marik was on the run through the forest, dodging under branches and over large crevices in the earth as knives were being thrown at him for all angles. His sense of direction was suffering greatly though, thanks to the magical effects of the song. Suddenly, the young amethyst eyed boy skidded to a halt, fear painting his features.

He stood at the bottom a large cliff.

Marik swung around, planting his back to the wall as his heart beat sped up and his eyes darted around for any signs of an escape. He found none.

"No," He panted, "I …can't die. I've… come to far… to die now."

"There he is!" Espa's voice rang out, "Get him!"

"No!" Marik growled, "Stay away from me!"

"Child, up here!" A woman's voice suddenly drifted down the cliff and Marik glanced up, a confused look on his features.

"Who…?" he started, only to be interrupted as a rope slithered into view and the lady's deep feminine tone came again; "Pleasantries can be saved for another time! Climb up! Those carnival boys are nearly here!"

Marik grabbed the rope sternly and began to haul himself up the cliff's side. A knife whizzed past his cheek and into the rock just a few centimeters away from the rope and his hand. He climbed faster and made it to the top, out of breath and tired… but safe, finally.

Marik moved to lie on his back, his feet still dangling over the side of the cliff as he caught his breath. He hadn't even realized he had closed his eyes…

...

"You say you can conjure anything at will?" Seto spat at the King from his place on the floor, "How about 'love'?"

Bakura paused in his stride, an anxious look overtaking his features momentarily, "Why do you ask that?"

Seto shrugged as best he could in his position, "I was just thinking… if either of us ever fell in love… I might have a chance for my affections to be returned. Marik has already told me that I am his friend… Maybe to be loved; I only must act like I do around Marik. It isn't that hard… I can't control how I am when I'm with him. It's… It just comes naturally."

Bakura wore a neutral expression… but something about the way he wouldn't meet Seto's gaze… or the way his hands clenched and fiddled with the rope thoughtfully… something told Seto that he was worried… or scared.

"I see," he said at length, swallowing to moisten his suddenly parched throat, "And I suppose that you not only have the audacity to think that I would sink so low as to fall in… love, but to also have a theory as to how I would go about trying to be loved in response?"

The elf gave a humorless laugh, "Of course… You wouldn't."

Bakura gave a questioning look and Seto elaborated; "You wouldn't be able to achieve love in return… The only chance you may ever have at gaining the affections of your loved one is your powers." Seto smirked knowingly, "And even then… the emotion of love is an entity that cannot be explained nor controlled easily. You would need some awfully powerful magic to control your loved one's emotions… And that is power that I am doubtful even the almighty Goblin King may posses."

Bakura was looking directly at Seto now, the usual passionate fire in his eyes distinguished and a cold steely determination present in its place. He smirked at the irony of the situation.

"You think you've won." Those words rocketed through the elf and stripped him of his arrogant nature in mere seconds.

"I don't think that." Seto stood up, the rope loosening from around his feet and shimmering into nothingness.

"Of course you do." Bakura snarled angrily, "But you're wrong, elf. **I** am the King. **I** have the power. **I **have the desire to win… and a worthless _servant _like you won't stop me from having Marik as my own! Do you hear me? Marik is _mine_! **My** love! **My** obsession! **My **_only_ weakness! And you think you can just walk on by and snatch him up when you don't even _know_ him! I have _watched _that child for **two years** now! _Two years_! And I'm the _only_ person that has seen his worth in all that time!"

Bakura paused for breath and Seto stood, motionless as a statue, just staring at the sight that he was sure he was the only one to ever have beheld… The Goblin King… was having a breakdown…?

"You won't get him, Seto." The monarch continued, determination set in his tone, "You've fallen for him as seen in the 'heroic protagonist' role that he seems to have fallen into… but I'm in love with the ignored child… the broken and lonely boy who sat and called out to me every night to save him and take him away… but he only ever said the proper magic words when it would make me the villain in all this. This is the only way I can help him… to put him through all of this… I'll make him want me…"

Bakura's gaze fell and he stopped to give a tired chuckle; "_Kiana_, I have to kill you now. You know too much." It seemed like such a bone chilling threat… but then Bakura lifted his head and gave a slight smile… a friendly smile… and Seto felt his breath catch.

_**Seto's bedroom in the castle was dark, cold and small. It was night time now and the twelve year old elf sat on his bed, gasping and growling at the pain in his arm as he bandaged the abused appendage. It seemed the Prince was being very obstinate towards Gozaburo today, which led to the advisor yelling at the kid and an angry King yelling at Gozaburo in turn. So the royal advisor did what he normally did when frustrated… he beat up his children. He went for Noah first, slapping the kid around a few times, and then he cracked Seto upside the head with a broom… but when he set his sights on Adina…**_

_**Seto didn't remember much after that… just jumping in front of his little sister, then his arm was grabbed and he was dragged over to the nearest door… and the door was being slammed again and again, pain lancing through his arm every time until he passed out…**_

"_**Ah!" the brunette gasped as his hand hit one of the gaping wounds again, his head screaming with pain in response. That broom had certainly left an impression.**_

_**A flutter of white wings shot in threw the rickety window and in front of him then. A white barn owl settled on the bed, silent as always and tilting his head in an inquiry of what happened.**_

"_**My step-father," Seto sneered, "Stupid bastard that he is. I'd love to see him up against the wall one day, in pain and defenseless. I bet he'd cry, too. Not like me… I never cry." Even as the young elf denied it, there were tears welling up in his sapphire eyes. The owl fluttered its wings again; one hitting Seto's wounded arm and making the boy hiss in pain again.**_

_**Seto scrunched his eyes shut in a vain attempt to ward off the ache when suddenly… he felt his bandages being untied. A piece of cloth was then laid over his arm and the soreness started to dissipate. He opened his eyes as the cloth – a handkerchief? – was removed from the now healthy and uninjured limb. His gaze followed the small pale hand holding the item and then quickly ducked his head in a respectful sign.**_

"_**My Prince," He gasped, "Forgive me, I did not see you before."**_

"_**Of course you didn't, Seto," The prince spoke, "I am always in my transformed state when I visit you."**_

_**The owl… Seto was suddenly torn between an embarrassment at his habit of talking to nature and – surprisingly – awe at the prince's voice… He had only met the young monarch a few days prior and this was the first time he had heard the boy utter a sound. **_

_**The prince smiled, "You intrigue me, Seto. You are not like others in the castle. You are humble but smart and I appreciate that. Keep the handkerchief, please. Consider it a sign of friendship."**_

_**The elf boy started, "I see… do you do this sort of thing often? Trying to buy friendship like this?"**_

_**Bakura growled, "If you don't care for my gift then just say so. And no, I do not crawl around in search of alliances with anyone or anything. I have my pride. You are a special case."**_

"_**Alright, I trust you." Seto finally gave in to the smile that wanted to spread over his lips and saw the prince smile in return… a shy kind smile full of friendly humor…**_

…The type of smile that the Goblin King was beaming at the elf again over five thousand years later, after their entire lives had been uprooted and thrashed about. A blossoming friendship had turned to a heated rivalry for love and attention. Petty spite had taken over and now the once companions refused to even call each other by their proper names.

Bakura's smile fell quickly at Seto's reminiscent face, "Ah, I see you remember our first meeting. Well, Setlist, I suppose you are just too stupid to realize that the past is _dead_."

He held his hand out, a crystal sphere forming on his palm, which he tossed to Seto.

The elf caught it, noticing that during its brief flight between the two, the object had altered. It was now a succulent looking peach.

Seto wanted to crush it. It gave him an excruciating feeling of impending disaster.

"It is a present for our dear Marik." Bakura explained, "You stated earlier that you were unsure of my ability to make him fall in love with me… That is your proof. Give it to him."

"Will it harm him?" The question sneaked out of the brunette's lips without his consent.

"Oh, now why the concern?" That was the King's sarcastic counter.

Seto swallowed his pride briefly, "I refuse to do anything to that child that could hurt him."

"You will give him that peach, elf," Bakura's voiced dripped venom, "Or – previous camaraderie be damned – I will kill you."

The elf froze and Bakura laughed, "You are a coward at heart, Setlist. You won't die for a boy you've only just become acquainted with."

"He'd hate me." Seto murmured, more to himself than to Bakura.

Bakura smirked and turned to walk away, but stopped briefly, "Oh, and one more thing… expect to be dropped into the Bog of Eternal Stench if he _ever_ kisses you."

Then the Goblin King disappeared into thin air and Seto barely just caught sight of the white owl flying away to the castle.

He sighed, looking down at the peach, "Ackiana, I'll suffer in some way no matter what my choice."

...

The front door to the home of Cleopatra Ishtar and Jason Trait slowly opened with a very audible creak that echoed through the still household. At six o'clock in the morning, the sun was just beginning to shine and a cool breeze swelled past the creeping duo at the entrance.

Malik could hear the faint chirping of the early birds outside the kitchen window as he made his way into the shadowed kitchen and set about making himself a cup of coffee whilst Isis trudged brokenly up the stairs to her room.

'Poor girl,' He thought with a sigh, 'She's practically dead on her feet with exhaustion, but I doubt those fears of hers are going to let her catch any sleep.'

Malik sighed as he reached for the kettle when suddenly the lights were turned on and he flipped around to face an equally startled Rishid.

"Ye Gods, Rishid," Malik gave a breathless chuckle, "Don't scare me like that. I thought you were mother or Jason."

"I am very sorry, master Malik," The servant boy bowed briefly. "I did not realize you had returned yet. How… how is Miss Isis?"

Malik let his smile drop like lead, "She's really torn up about this… and she's not the only one either… We both seem to be wearing the same clothing as yesterday."

Rishid cast his gaze over both himself and Malik and nodded. Even the parents of the house had fallen asleep with their dinner suits, ties, jewelry and whatnot still in place, not bothering to change because of being to overcome by worry. But Rishid had no idea if they were concerned over both children… or if they were only worried about Mokuba.

Malik leant back against the counter and gritted his teeth in annoyance, "I hate this… I'm not… accustomed… to not being in control. This whole 'family kidnapping' thing has really thrown me off me of my game. I mean… those hoods that hang around here smoking or dealing drugs… I can outfight, outthink or outlast any of them in a brawl, but… when it comes to this…'giving comfort' and 'caring' stuff… I'm at a loss."

The elder male gave a small smile, "Don't fret so much, master Malik. I think you're doing just fine."

...

Marik awoke in a strange setting. The first thing he realized before opening his eyes was that he was lying on a bed, a large soft one at that. When he did manage to finally open his eyes and reveal amethyst jewels to the world around, he heard a gasp of awe.

"Ah, thank goodness," said a feathery voice from the side, "We have all been concerned about you."

The owner of that voice was a lady dressed in an outfit made of robust green leaves. Her eyes were a light shade of purple and her hair the same, tied up in a ponytail with a sunny yellow ribbon. However, what made Marik's eyes widen and caused him to jolt up into a sitting position was the fact that on her back was a pair of light green wings that glittered in the sunlight.

Marik then comprehended that he was in a large tent, shaded various striking colors. Navy blues, vibrant reds, shimmering yellows, fresh greens and candy pinks all melded together in a swirling pattern that danced all along the fabric that incased the fairy and himself. Pillows and covers of the same design adorned the bed and decorated the small dressing table and chairs at the tent's corners. It seemed so warm and lively…

"Miho, how is the child?" A voice called from outside the tent's opening and Marik gave a surprised jolt.

'That's her voice!' he thought, 'It's that woman that rescued me!'

The tent flap was pulled back by slender alabaster fingers and Marik felt himself blush slightly as the stranger's full red lips curved into a seductive smile.

"Oh, you are awake," the deep tone came again, "And how was your sleep?"

Marik felt silly for thinking such a thing, but… the mannerisms and the raspy quality the voice possessed…

He stuttered, "B-_Bakura_…?"

Both females let their eyebrows rise in surprise before the stranger gave a giggle.

"No. I'm sorry to disappoint you, young Marik." She spoke, brushing long blonde glistening locks away from her stunning lilac eyes, "I am the King's cousin, Mai Valentine, Queen of the Fairies…"

**So, how did everyone like it? Not a lot of romance but there may be some next chapter. So, it's time to meet the fairies next! And whatever happened to Tristan? For anyone who has seen the film, that is going to be such a rhetorical question. **

**PLEASE REVIEW!**


	9. The Owl's Father

**Kiana! Fifty reviews! I am seriously freaking out! I am sooo happy! I never thought this fic would even get this far. But it has and I'm really hyped right now because I've FINALLY figured out how I'm going to do the ballroom scene! ^_^ I bet a lot of people are happy with that remark.**

**Okay, to everyone who has reviewed this story so far, THANK YOU SO MUCH! My wish is that you all get enough chocolate to kill an elephant this Easter. ^_^ You deserve the corporeal praise that I cannot give you. The best I can do is post this chapter and pray that its one of my best ones yet.**

**Also, thank you to those of you who gave such encouraging words about my writing-in-detail-madness. It seriously gave me this HUGE I-must-write-the-next-chapter boost. And considering that I've just had all my exams, I count this as having gotten out a little faster than usual.**

**Everybody go check out Littlekuriboh's latest video. It has a Labyrinth reference and it is soooo funny! ^_^**

**By the way, I haven't really spell checked this yet, so please ignore the mistakes and I'll fix them real soon! ^_^**

**Enjoy the story!**

_**1**__**st**__** Labyrinth…**_

**Chapter 9: The Owl's Father…**

"I am the King's cousin, Mai Valentine, Queen of the Fairies…"

And what a Queen she was… Mai was exceptionally beautiful, dressed superbly in a tight reddish-purple sleeveless top that buttoned at the front and a long skirt of the same color that dragged along the ground in a flowing motion. There were rings encrusted with precious gems on her fingers and she wore a gold necklace adorned with a lilac colored jewel as well as golden armlets and wristlets. Her whole aura seemed to scream of a warm 'Golden Queen of Light' to rival Bakura's 'Silver King of Darkness' demeanor.

Marik stared up at the woman, guessing her to be about eighteen or so without including the effects of Bakura's 'slow ageing' spell. This new lady also possessed a pair of leaf-shaped wings on her back, their color being an intoxicating dark purple and their size being twice as large as Miho's wings.

"Miho, would you be so kind as to check the fairies progress on the making of the new attire for our young guest?"

"Yes Queen Mai, of course." The purple haired girl bowed and exited the tent.

"You are… the queen of the fairies?" Marik echoed, awe dripping for every syllable, "I've… I've read about you… but I didn't know that you are related to the Goblin King."

_The Queen of the Fairies may be well known for her beauty; however she is even more renowned for her personality. The Queen is an expert in the martial arts and has been hailed for her defeats of many strong fighters, as well as her fair and righteous personality. She rules over the fairy village from her place inside the castle…_

"But," Marik started suddenly, "my book on the Labyrinth said that the Queen didn't live in the village with all the other fairies… So why are you here?"

Mai's face adopted a sad look, "Ah yes, I have heard about the book that was made in reference to this realm. You must understand, my brave boy, that the man you know as Arthur Hawkins wrote that tome about twelve years ago… and since then a lot has happened. How… how old is the… _professor_ now?"

'I wonder why she wants to know…' Marik thought before answering, "He's around forty to fifty years old I'd guess… Why?"

Mai gave a chuckle, "Uncle always did look older than his actual age. Let me guess: Seto told you he was about sixty, didn't he? That boy never was good with time after Bakura cast that spell…"

Marik tilted his head in confusion, "But Seto hasn't mentioned anything about Professor Hawkins… only –" He halted with a start.

'_Uncle'…?_

"_**Considering he looked about thirty when he left, and that he left quite a few years ago, he has to look at least sixty now…"**_

_But Seto had been talking about the previous King… Bakura's father…_

'_Uncle'…? 'Father'…? _

_The novelist Arthur Hawkins was the previous King…? _

_Arthur Hawkins was Bakura's…_

…_father…_

Mai nodded with a sad smile as she noticed Marik's shocked face, "Yes, it's true… Uncle Arthur left us for the human world and Bakura took over. And, of course, I could see that Gozaburo was filling my poor innocent cousin's mind with imaginary threats of his castle being under attack, so I decided to speak my mind… and he banished me for it…"

The Queen's features twitched in a spasm of discomfort at the memory of the awful day.

"_**Bakura, please listen to me! Can't you see what Gozaburo is trying to do?"**_

She bit her lip hard as she felt the now accustomed prickle of tears behind her squeezed shut eyes.

"_**Shut up Mai! How dare you talk back to me! If I say that your Knight friend is to be banished to guard the Bog of Eternal Stench than SO BE IT!"**_

A salty taste in her mouth… Tears…

"_**You're just a jealous fool! A selfish, heartless MONSTER!"**_

'No…'

"_**Shut up, you insolent PEST!"**_

'No... He can't have meant it…'

"_**I could rule this land better than you!"**_

'No… I went too far…'

"_**Than you will have plenty of time to prove it!"**_

'We both did…'

"_**Bakura, what…?"**_

'It hurts…'

"_**From here on you are EXILED to the fairy village!"**_

'It hurts… so much…'

"_**Bakura, please no! You need me!"**_

'It hurts… so much… to be…'

"Ms. Queen? Mai…?"

"_**I don't need you! DON'T EVER COME NEAR ME AGAIN!"**_

'…alone…'

"I know how you feel."

That was Marik's voice… the voice burdened with emotions that ripped the Queen from her dark reverie. She looked down at the boy who's slightly tear stained face mirrored hers.

"I know how you feel," he repeated, "I'm not… needed in my parent's lives either… or my siblings… But they're all I have and when the only real person you're close to doesn't need you… You feel useless…"

Mai's tears had stopped and she gave a shy smile at the child. For some reason, now she didn't feel... so alone anymore.

"Marik Ishtar," she mused, "You've developed quite a reputation throughout the Labyrinth. My cousin has paid much attention to you… that is highly unusual in itself. However, you have also overcome many obstacles that were previously thought unbeatable… the cleaner and the oubliette and the Big Five are only a few that come to mind. I have been watching you Marik and I am impressed. You have matched Bakura where I have failed."

"Queen Mai," Miho entered the tent again, holding a bundle of clothing in her arms, "The clothing is ready."

"Very good." Mai turned to Marik, "Young one, please accept a gift from the fairies. You're cloths are torn and dirty from your escapades throughout the Labyrinth, and though our clothes would be more decorative than you are used to, they are clean and soft."

Marik smiled, accepting the bundle, "Thank you, Ms. Queen."

"Call me Mai, hun." The lady grinned, "I'll leave you to change clothes now." She exited the tent with a wave to Miho, who followed her out.

A few seconds later, Marik peered out of that same flap of cloth to behold the amazing sights and sounds of the village around him. It was exactly as Arthur Hawkins had described, and Marik now knew why he was able to describe it so well. After all, what king wouldn't know his own kingdom…?

_In Mystify Forrest there dwells a large village alive with light and music, comprised of small tents for houses embroiled in various colors. The Fairy Village holds fairies the size of normal human beings and every surface sparkles of magic…_

Marik heaved a sigh, for once wishing he actually could take Bakura up on his offer and stay in the Labyrinth… but that wouldn't be fair to Mokuba, and Marik wasn't about to sacrifice someone else's life just for his own selfish desires…

…Even if that idea did seem tempting.

...

Seto Kaiba reckoned he'd broken land speed records as he raced though a hidden track in the forest that was bereft of any traps. He had known about this passage for a long time now and it was the only path that never changed after a new challenger failed the Labyrinth. He would have loved to give the information on the whereabouts of the track to Marik, but the King had also cast a spell that if anyone of a lower rank – such as himself, Mr. Mutou or Noah – ever told their knowledge of how to get through the Labyrinth to a challenger, the challenger would die automatically. Somehow though, Seto had a sneaking suspicion that Bakura had removed the spell, because Marik had gained a volley of information from various lower class parties about how to get though the Labyrinth and the boy was still alive.

As Seto entered the Fairy Village, emerging from the thick brush of the Mystify Forrest, he noticed his old acquaintance, the princess – now queen – Mai Valentine looking over at him with shock and some pleasure.

"Oh, wondrous water lilies, if it isn't the elf, Kaiba himself!" Mai rushed over, her skirt flowing like water as she moved, "My good friend, it is a great experience to see you again. What brings you to this part of the Labyrinth?" She cast a look behind her at the tent Marik resided in, "Maybe you've come to find your friend Marik… or maybe have a little alone time with him?"

A slight blush found its way onto Seto's cheeks, "You romanticize everything, Mai. I have no interest in Marik other than to help him beat your egotistical cousin at his own… game…" The last word had been whispered as the elf stared past Mai with a look that bordered on the boundaries of shock, admiration and… was that… _longing_ that the queen saw in his eyes?

"Seto! You're here!" Marik's voice seemed hazy in the elf's ears as he looked upon the boy in his new fairy-made attire. Marik wore deep purple glittering pants that sagged at the bottom in the style that Arabian royalty would wear with pointed slippers that shone gold in color to mach the vest he wore. The glittering golden silk of the short Arabian style vest glinted in compliment to Marik's flaxen locks and the fact that Marik's chest was bare other than that item and the gold chocker he wore drew some appreciative stares from the younger members of the crowds gathered around the site.

The elf Seto gulped as he saw the smooth skin of Marik's chest and stomach. Although the boy was only young, he still possessed a slightly muscled physique. Was this what had attracted Bakura to Marik in the first place, his heavenly appearance?

"_**I'm in love with the ignored child… the broken and lonely boy who sat and called out to me every night to save him and take him away…"**_

No… Bakura wasn't that shallow, hard as it was to believe.

"_**You've fallen for him as seen in the 'heroic protagonist' role that he seems to have fallen into…"**_

'But he's standing before me now, not doing anything to make himself look heroic or brave.' Seto's mind argued, 'To me, right now he looks like a small child who has a lot of pressure on his shoulders… but he still looks beautiful… Marik will always look beautiful… Even in darkness where no one can see his face, his kindness and passion… everything that makes him Marik… will make him beautiful…'

...

In the castle at the center of the Labyrinth, Bakura stared into his crystal ball as he read the elf's thoughts.

"I couldn't agree with you more… Seto…"

...

Marik fingered one of the wristlets he wore as he saw Seto's distracted gaze upon him, "Um… Seto, are you okay?"

Said teen snapped out of his daze, coughing to cover his embarrassment as he rasped, "Yeah, I'm fine… I'm just, um, here to check on someone."

The amethyst eyed boy smiled, "Oh really? Who's that?"

'You're too trusting!' Seto's thoughts growled, 'can't you see when someone is lying to you? Don't put on such a credulous expression! Realize that I'm untruthful and figure out Bakura's plan!'

Out loud the elf kept up his charade, "My sister Adina should be around here somewhere."

Mai visibly tensed.

"Adina…" She started slowly, "isn't with you…?"

Seto whipped around to face her with disbelief in his sapphire orbs, and the woman started panicking.

"B-but she left here a month ago!" Mai bit her lip, "She told me she was going to find you!"

The elf sneered; worry painting his features, "She's been kidnapped then?"

"I don't know! No one would dare hurt her! Everyone knows that Adina is under my protection –"

"_Some protection_!" the elf interrupted sarcastically.

Mai suddenly noticed a small goblin at the edge of the crowd starting to sneak away. Her eyes narrowed in a very similar manner ton Bakura's and she extended her arm quickly, a cherry colored bubble shooting from her hand to ensnare said goblin. The little creature tumbled around awkwardly inside the sphere as it floated back to the irate queen.

"You, Goblin, tell me where Princess Adina is!" She ordered in a booming authoritative tone that completely contradicted her sweet friendly nature from earlier.

The goblin relented, telling of Gozaburo's abduction of the maiden a month ago and her current residence in the castle dungeons, unbeknownst to the king.

When the creature had finished, Mai's face was a portrait of pure fury to match Seto's murderous look. She ordered the goblin locked up and turned to the elf at her side.

"Exile or no, this is treason on your stepfather's part and I will not let this injustice go unpunished! Marik," she swiveled to face the child, "May I accompany you on your journey to the castle?"

"Yes, Mai," he answered with a slight bow and a smile, "I'd love the extra company."  
"Count me in too." Seto stepped forward, "Gozaburo will pay."

"Then we will away now." The queen moved a slender hand to the side of her skirt, loosening the ties there until the material was lifted away, revealing a pair of skin-tight pants the same color as her top and a pair of leather boots to match.

Marik felt a small laugh threatening to emerge from his throat as he realized that Mai not only had mannerisms similar to Bakura, but she also dressed close to his style. A serious expression quickly took hold of his features though. Now it wasn't just Mokuba he was out to save, but Seto's little sister also.

...

Bakura hadn't heard the current revelation. Soon after reading Seto's thoughts, the monarch had retired to his chambers once more, exhausted from the happenings so far that day. It had been a hectic jaunt since the second Marik had opened that book in the park to read it.

"I just don't understand," Bakura muttered as the bedroom door opened behind him, revealing an equally frustrated Emily, "I've tried everything to keep that elf away from Marik – seduction via a beautiful woman, the Cleaner and threats of the Eternal Stench… Even that damn peach might have given him some incentive to just do my bidding then get lost! But nothing works! Kiana… If I don't figure out something soon than he'll take the heart of the person I've been courting for two years now..."

"Oh?" Emily raised her voice to announce her appearance, "Forgive my blatant nature, but I haven't seen you court – let alone show yourself – to this human before this day."

The King shook his head slightly, "No, forgive me for my incorrect words. It is true that I have not appeared to him in my human form… but I have another way to watch him…" Bakura provided no further information on the subject though and Emily heaved a sigh, realizing the sovereign needed to be left alone for the moment. She turned to leave when a voice sounded.

"Emily," Bakura said quietly as he turned to face her, extending a hand on which a petite scroll shimmered into existence, "Take this to Gozaburo."

The harpy plucked the paper from his hand, "Another get-Marik-quick scheme no doubt?"

"No," he replied, "it's to tell him that you are exempted from your duties for the rest of the day. You don't have that usual glow today, and frankly, it's getting on my nerves. Just… go and recover and come back later as your usual self."

Emily scarcely hid her smile, "Yes, you're majesty." She exited and shut the door with a faint click, leaving the Goblin King to remember a certain meeting he'd had with his Marik...

_**Marik sat on the front step on his house, soaking wet as he watched the rain beat down relentlessly just inches away from him, signifying where the roof of the small porch ended. His hair clung to his face, obscuring amethyst eyes that were dull in color from tears.**_

"_**So cold," he whimpered, curling up as much as possible, his skin chilled and tremors racking his body, "So… c-cold…"**_

_**In the form of an ashen barn owl, Bakura lay hidden in the branches of a nearby tree, an inner debate well at hand. One part of him was fighting tooth and nail to swoop down and save the child; warm him and cover him and make love to him right there on that dirty old porch with nothing but the rain and his passion and the boy's heavenly cries echoing in his ears…**_

_**But there was that other fraction of him that held him back. **_

'_**It isn't befitting for a king,' it said, 'Just go home. Leave him. A human isn't worth it. He'll be fine on his own… Just leave.'**_

"_**The King?"**_

_**Marik's soft inquiry dragged the white owl out of his musings and his gaze refocused on the trembling boy who had now uncurled himself somewhat to squint up at the tree branches that hid the transformed monarch. At first Bakura didn't realize why Marik had addressed him as such, but then he remembered that the child and his friend Joey were used to calling their 'bird' friend by royal titles.**_

"_**Is t-that you… m-my King?" Marik bit his lip, fighting down the tremors, "It- It's nice t-to see a friend… My parents and b-brothers are out… looking for a new d-dress for my sister to wear… to a party." Amethyst eyes met crimson and Marik smiled, "M-my sister's a really nice girl… I hope you c-can meet her… someday. I'm s-sure… you'd like her…"**_

'_**I don't like her. She made you cry.' Bakura's mind hissed, 'She made you cry… on your birthday. I HATE her.'**_

_**A flurry of feathers and Bakura was suddenly down next to Marik, wide white wings enveloping the boy and calming his shivers.**_

'_**You're trembling.' Bakura's clawed feet used the fabric of Marik's shirt to climb atop the boy, covering him as best he could.**_

'_**It won't work,' he thought, 'this body is too small… but to transform now would frighten him… What am I supposed to do…?'**_

"_**Thank you, my King." Marik smiled sleepily, his eyes closing to a world full of enchanting dreams of goblins and fairies and a crimson eyed king… with snowy white hair…**_

_**Sunrays beat down upon pale skin as bleary crimson eyes opened the next morning and the Goblin King Bakura sat up to find himself lying on the grimy porch of the Ishtar household. His usual attire of grey and white was smudged and caked with mud and rainwater that had spattered on him during the course of the rainy night.**_

_**However, this was a small price to pay as Bakura found himself propped up against the door with Marik's soft body splayed out over his and the child's head propped right under his chin as the boy nuzzled into his chest, warm puffs of breath ghosting over Bakura's neck and causing the monarch's cheeks redden slightly.**_

_**A car door slammed somewhere down the road and voices traveled on the still wind, shattering the stillness of the frosty morning.**_

"_**We'll have to walk to the house from here, children. The dirt track's too waterlogged up ahead."**_

"_**I can't believe that you took all night to choose a damn dress, Cleo! It's one party! Do you even realize how much it cost to bribe that damn shop to stay open?"**_

"_**For a party today, for a prince tomorrow; Appearance always counts, my dear!" **_

"_**Hey guys!"**_

"_**Joey, what are you doing out so early?"**_

"_**Mornin' Isis! I just thought I'd stop by and see Marik on my way ta visit my gramps."**_

"_**Marik isn't with you?"**_

"_**Rishid, you feelin' okay? You look kinda pale… and of course Marik ain't with me. He's with you all… ain't he?"**_

"_**No… Oh no!" **_

"_**Rishid, wait! Where are ya goin'?"**_

_**A patter of feet had sounded and Bakura quickly sat up, moving Marik so that he lay on face up on the porch. Something red slipped out of his pocket and Bakura recognized it as the 'Labyrinth' book, which he placed in the child's hands before leaning down to plat a scant kiss on Marik's warm lips.**_

_**By the time Rishid came bounding up the drive, his pants drenched from sprinting through the deep puddles, the Goblin King was in his owl form again – though somewhat more untidy than the prior night – and sitting on a branch in the same tree Marik had spotted him in before.**_

"_**Mater Marik!" Rishid gasped, falling to his knees and hugging Marik, jolting the boy from his sound sleep, "I'm so sorry! I keep failing in my duty to protect you!"**_

"_**R-Rishid…?" Marik rubbed his eyes and yawned cutely, "I had the most wonderful dream about the Goblin King… He saved me…"**_

_**The others had caught up by now and Bakura watched as the boy with the crazy hairstyle – Malik – came forward to snatch up the tiny scarlet tome from the floor.**_

"_**So, let me get this straight, you kept warm in freezing cold weather by fantasizing about your dream lover?"  
"Malik, don't be crude!" Isis scolded whilst Marik blushed lightly.**_

"_**Hey," Malik turned to her, "I'm saying this for his own good."  
"And what, pray tell, is it that you're implying?" She bit back.**_

_**Malik turned to his younger brother, "Marik, what I'm saying is not to base so much hope on fairytales and dreams… because dreams and wishes alone can't help you when there is real danger."**_

_**Bakura glared at the group gathered around the sight, 'I hate them all. I hate your parents and your brothers and your sister and your so-called friends. I hate them… because I love you… and they are the ones that should.'**_

_**Everyone had entered the house now except for Marik. The boy looked down at the novel he held and then up at the trees…**_

…_**He looked right at Bakura. **_

_**A faint ruby color tinted his cheeks and he bowed slightly, whispering, "Thank you, my King… You saved me…"**_

Bakura looked out at the Labyrinth, thinking once more, 'Don't give up your dreams Marik. I'm one of them… and I'll die if you ever give up on me…'

...

The three different travelers had left the Fairy Village and were now on their way to the castle, with a confident Mai leading the way and Seto and Marik trailing behind her.

"Man, I miss the days were I could fly," Mai heaved a grunt of irritation, causing Marik to glance up from his new genie-style footwear.

"But you have wings," he pointed out, "so why can't you?"

Mai cast her gaze over her shoulder, inspecting the boy for lack of any other entertainment, "Bakura exiled me to the village; meaning that he cast a spell so I can't fly even though I have wings… he doesn't want me buzzing around the castle."

Marik pouted endearingly, "Bakura sure does use magic a lot."

"It is how he keeps everyone in line," Seto said darkly. However, his negative attention on the subject was short-lived, as his next broad step had his face planted in a giant spider's web.

The young Egyptian's eyes widened as the queen of the fairies also fell victim to this sticky trap not seconds later. Piercing sunlight streamed through the trees, illuminating the full path that the quavering thread followed and Marik saw that the strands of web extended upwards between two distant trees, from ground level all the way up to the enshrouding treetops high above.

Seto felt a spurt of fear shoot up his spine and, after casting his gaze over a squirming trapped queen, his eyes met Marik's and he growled, perplexed, "What's going on here? Mai, is this one of the Labyrinth's traps?" The elf twisted violently but only succeeded in causing himself to sink further into the silky ensnarement, "Ackiana, it won't budge!"

Mai was in much the same predicament, halting her helpless wriggling when she saw Marik's hand reach for the web.

She screamed frantically, "No! Marik, don't touch it!"

Marik retracted his hand with a jolt, replying nonetheless.

"But I can help you get free." His voice was uncertain of the outcome, but not unwilling to try.

"No, kiddo," Seto interjected, "The thread is much too sticky and quite strong. We'll need something like a stick to break –" He cut off suddenly, his long ears perking upwards and his face radiating fear, "Marik, go! _Run_! There's something coming!"

Before the tanned boy could utter a syllable in return, a thick tangle of web landed with an audible 'splat' next to his foot, the slimy meld obviously having been launched as a weapon by someone hiding amongst the branches nearby.

Deep, portentous sniggers originated from above the travelers as Marik watched a gigantic, black body descend from the braches on a thin glistening stand.

_The Labyrinth is devoid of bugs, for the most part. Mosquito's don't exist there and neither do flies. So logically spiders are nonexistent also, due to the lack of food for the species. The only insects the Labyrinth holds in its depths are butterflies and moths. This fact would make the realm seem almost perfect…_

A long black, hairy leg landed with an evident thump before seven more of its kind followed it.

The queen's eyes were wide in unspoken terror and Seto looked on with fear and awe at the new opponent whilst the youngest of the group stood caught between the two, his expression of shock coupled with a half-step backwards betraying his alarm.

… _except for the fact that amongst the twists and turns of the Labyrinth's more organic terrain, there lies in wait hybridizations of insects or reptiles more deadly than the feared critters of the human realm could ever aspire to be…_

Large insanity driven eyes glinted from a square cranium that sat atop a bulky torso. Broad human arms crossed over the stranger's chest, but aside from those qualities, from his stomach down he possessed the body of a spider.

"I am Panic," he said, looking over the group, "And I've finally caught the trophy I've been after for so long. I've captured a queen for my dinner!"

'Two arms and eight legs,' Seto thought dejectedly, 'That thing could strangle all three of us simultaneously! What is one supposed to do to overcome a thing like that?'

Marik seemed to have found his voice in beneath his fright, and he pleaded, "Please, Panic, there must be something else you can eat! You can't hurt the queen! I won't let you!" To prove his point, the young Egyptian leaped between the advancing spider and the entangled fairy. Panic growled, swinging his massive arm in an ark, the appendage slamming against Marik's stomach and sending the boy flying a short distance off to the left. He landed with a dull thump and a groan, barely still conscious.

"Marik!" Seto gasped as he saw the youth hit the ground. His attention quickly morphed into fury as he turned to Panic, "He had better not be hurt or I swear that the King's punishments will pale in comparison to what I will do to you!"

"Oh, I highly doubt that…" A new voice supplied; a voice that Mai was very familiar with, in fact. The queen's gaze met Bakura's as she glanced up and a gasp slipped from her lips. He looked… different. She didn't know how, but something about him just seemed to give off this… softer aura, this more… pleasant atmosphere…

As the Goblin King walked calmly towards them, he waved his hand in a flippant motion and the web holding Seto and Mai suddenly disintegrated into fine powder, leaving the previously trapped duo to fall to their knees on the soft earth.

Panic also kneeled down hurriedly before the King, cowering, "You're Majesty!"

"Your crimes, shall we review them?" Bakura's businesslike tone belied his anger, "First, you hunt fairies – and in turn, my cousin – as if in sport. Secondly, treason against my family and attempted murder, and thirdly –," Bakura cast his gaze over to the fallen Marik, "– that boy is to rule beside me in future and harming a future royal means certain death."

Panic snorted, "That _thing_, a royal? What a laugh!"

Bakura's eyes narrowed and not a split second later, a black-tinted purple fissure split the ground beneath Panic's feat. A surprisingly high pitched scream ripped from the spider's throat as he fell down into the rapidly expanding pit that suddenly froze in its growth and started to shrink again until Panic's bawling was cut off as the ground fused together again.

"No one messes with my family or –" Bakura gasped, discontinuing his statement as he started in Marik's direction…

…only to find that damned elf already leaning over the boy, a concerned look in place.

Marik groaned lightly as he drifted back into consciousness.

"Seto?" The boy lifted his elf so that he was face to face with the kneeling elf, "You're okay? You beat him?"

Seto's eyes flittered their gaze to Bakura quickly, realizing that Marik hadn't noticed the King's presence yet, "Well, actually–"

"Thanks Seto," The tanned boy interrupted him, hooking his arms around the elf's neck; "You saved me."

Seto would have protested this fact if he hadn't found Marik's lips suddenly covering his own in a chaste kiss. Suddenly, nothing else seemed to matter in the world as he pressed forward, returning the gesture. This was… Wait, no, it _wasn't_ wonderful… if anything, it seemed almost … _awkward_ for Marik. The affection was there, yes… and the want to express gratitude… but there was something missing that the elf couldn't put a name to… Something stronger than affection or gratitude or even friendship…

There was no _love_ in the kiss…

But Bakura seemed to have thought there was, because his eyes flashed ire red and the dirt beneath both Marik and Seto suddenly disappeared, leaving the duo to utter collective short screams as they disappeared down a dark tunnel.

Mai watched as Seto and Marik disappeared completely, shock masking her features, before her senses returned.

"You!" She sputtered, marching towards her cousin, "For what's sake did you do _that_! Kiana! Where did you send them, Bakura?"  
The King growled, "To the Bog of Eternal Stench, which is _exactly_ where that **traitorous** elf _belongs_! Did you _see_ that? He **kissed** Marik! Kissed **my** Marik! Well, if that disgusting slave thinks he can get away with stealing my future spouse, he had **better** think again! The _stupid_ – Oh, I can't even think of a worse enough name to call that – that _fiend_!"

The queen was staring at Bakura, entranced. Where had all this… _passion_ come from? It was so unusual to see the king worked up like this! After so much time she had spent watching her cousin rule with an impartial air… this sudden display of weakness for another being – and a _human_, at that – was frightening to watch.

"You're jealous," She said at length, "or afraid…? It is… amazing… Do you not even _care_ that there are others like myself _defying_ your rules? Right now Gozaburo has the Princess Adina held captive in the castle dungeon… and you are worried over the blossoming love between a servant and a human. You have changed a great deal Bakura."

The words hit home, stabbing the King right in his nonexistent heart. What was he _doing_? He was the ruler of the entire realm in which the Labyrinth resided! He didn't have the time to worry about some sordid love affair taking place between a human and an outcast. And that's what Seto was: an outcast and a slave, who had the spare juncture and the low status to be able to interact freely with a human creature.

"_**You wouldn't be able to achieve love in return…"  
**_

Bakura sighed heavily. Maybe Marik and that damned elf were better off together. After all, a King's sole priority was for Kingdom and people… No successful King had ever been happy in the love aspect of life, so why should he expect any different?

"_**The only chance you may ever have at gaining the affections of your loved one is your powers…"**_

Besides, Setlist was right… Love is a powerful entity and an undoubtedly hard one to control… The peach probably wouldn't even work…

"Cousin, are you alright?" Mai's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"I'm fine." He answered with a sneer. "So, you say that Gozaburo is holding the princess captive? I will see to it that she is released within the hour."

The queen heaved a relived sigh, before the ground suddenly vanished from beneath her feat. She caught the edge of the hole in time and was now just staring up at Bakura in astonishment and anger.

"Cousin!" Her tone was accusing, "What is the meaning of this?"

Bakura stared down at the dangling queen, his voice and expression impassive, "As you stated earlier; you disobeyed my commands… and now you must pay. Goodbye Cousin. Join your treacherous friends."

He kicked her hand and the blonde woman let out a scream as she was plunged downwards into darkness.

The King turned away from the trap hole, a frown covering his features as his silver locks shadowed his face and hid his eyes from view. A clear glistening crystalline droplet trickled down Bakura's cheek from behind his hair and fell to the brown earth with a small 'tap' sound.

Suddenly, a tiny shoot of bright, lush green emerged from the ground. It wound upwards a few inches in a spiral shape before blossoming into a pure white rose.

Bakura glanced down, startled, watching sparkles of magic shimmer in the air around the flower, before his hand whipped up to his face and he rubbed quickly against his cheek to be rid of the wet trail.

"I forgot that I could do that," he mumbled as his form started to shift into that of the renowned white barn owl. His last words echoed in the air as he flew off towards the castle…

"Damn Marik… He's making me feel again…"

**Gasp, what shall happen next? Only time will tell. Anyone what to tell me there favorite scene? I'm willing to bet that the revelation of who Bakura's father was, was a real shock for the readers. Any input of the currant twist? I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Hopefully, the next one will be out quicker. **

**Next Chapter: The Bog of Eternal Stench, Tristan makes another appearance and maybe even a new character to add into the mix. Stay tuned and…**

**Please Review!**


	10. The Knight of the Bog

**Hello to everyone still reading this story. It's been two years and although the Yu-Gi-Oh! series has come to a close and the fandom has dwindled, my love for the series (especially the Yami Bakura/Hikari Marik pairing) has not, and I'm sure that there are others out there like me, who still love Yu-Gi-Oh! and all its wonderful characters. **

**Well, its been a while and I haven't given up on this story. Safe to say, I'm sticking it out to the end. So, if anyone is still reading this (or just started it), I'd like to hear your thoughts and know that my writing isn't in vain. And yes, I will still be writing the sequel to this. The sequel is like the second half of this fic, and '1****st**** Labyrinth' wouldn't be complete without it.**

**Also, please forgive me if I'm a little rusty. I've even had to go back and re-read my own story just so I didn't unintentionally create any plot holes.**

**Well, I think we've waited long enough. Here's chapter ten, everybody.**

_**1**__**st**__** Labyrinth…**_

**Chapter 10: The Knight of the Bog…**

"_Damn Marik… He's making me feel again…_"

Isis bolted upright in bed as the deep raspy voice penetrated her mind, sounding both hazy and frightfully clear at the same time. She panted, cold sweat beading on her forehead as she buried her face in her hands, breathing shallow.

"Why?" she whimpered. "Why does this voice haunt me? Why does it keep mentioning my brother? Am I going insane, or is this voice real? Why am I hearing such things?" Tears slipped down her cheeks before she threw her head back and screamed to the ceiling, "Who are you? What do you know about my brother? Where is he? Tell me!"

Rapid footsteps sounded outside the door before the bedroom door was thrown open and Malik jolted to a stop. His eyes flickered around the room, searching for whatever intruder his sister had been yelling at. Upon discovering the room to be devoid of threats, he relaxed and moved to sit down at the foot of his sister's bed.

"You look as if you've seen a ghost, woman." He breathed sympathetically, seeing the tear trails that slipped over her cheeks. "What's come over you? Who were you screaming at?"

"Oh, Malik, he's in my thoughts… and I can't get him to leave me alone! He's taunting me!"

"Who is?"

"I don't know!" She sobbed into her pillow. "But he says the most awful things about Marik! He says we're never going to see him again, and just now he sounded so angry!"

"Calm yourself, Isis," Malik said, grasping her shoulders and hauling her upright. "Ever think you're just having a bit of trauma from this whole situation? It's not that uncommon an occurrence… or at least that's what my therapist tells me." He gave a crooked smile, but it turned into a frown again at the look on Isis face. She seemed so… sure.

"I hear him while I'm awake too, Malik. I know whoever he is, he _is_ out there."

"Well then," the tanned boy said seriously, "Let's see if this mystery person can give up any clues as to where to find Marik."

...

Mai landed with a painful 'thump'.

Then she clamped a hand to her mouth, eyes dilating from the nasty stench in the air.

"Mai!" Marik scrambled over to help her sit up properly. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," she said. "Fortunately, something soft broke our fall."

"Yeah, me." A muffled voice came from beneath them and Mai shrieked, reeling back from the ogre who was face down in the dirt.

"A beast!" she cried as the hulking creature stood up.

"Tristan!" Marik ran up and hugged the ogre exuberantly, trying to reach his arms all the way around his friend, with little success.

A little ways off, Seto was dusting the dirt from his coat. "Oh, wonderful. As if landing in the Bog of Eternal Stench weren't bad enough, now we have that reeking ogre to add to it."

Marik looked around, a hand to his nose as he did so. Of course. This place was in Arthur Hawkins's book too…

_Darker than an Oubliette, more dreaded than the Cleaner, the Bog of Eternal Stench is a wasteland of bruise colored filth deep within Mystify Forrest. The ground is all but made of sludge, and the water bubbles with sickening noises, as the monsters that live beneath gasp for air. Since it is not easily found, the bog is the perfect place to store criminals and those who would oppose the king. The stench contains a light poison that, if given an ample amount of time, will coat the walls of a person's throat and eventually cause it to close up completely. And if, by chance, a traveler is able to escape before this can happen, any contact with the lake will cause a putrid stench to stick to them forever, rendering them an outcast. _

Marik cringed. "We have to get away from here quick everyone."

"I've tried, little hero," the ogre said, a little green around the gills. "But there's a barrier blocking the only bridge out and no matter how many times I hit it, the damn thing won't budge."

The barrier was straight ahead, a sheer transparent wall of shifting purple shadows that extended a mile high and encircled the entire bog. Beyond it stood a rickety bridge.

Mai touched a hand to the barrier, biting her lip. "Whoever set this up had amazing power. I'm willing to bet that this shadow magic was my cousin's doing, but he hasn't been here for years." She looked around, her eyes landing on an old trap door in the ground. "A barrier this strong needs yearly amplification. Whoever lives here must be strengthening it, and they could probably take it down for us."

"Someone _lives_ in this cesspit?" Seto looked positively scandalized.

Marik ignored him. "Couldn't you take it down, Mai?"

Mai winked in jest, but her expression was drowsy. The air of the bog was beginning to affect her. "I use white magic, Marik. Black always overtakes white."

"But that's not what I read in my fairytales."

Seto stomped his foot on the trap door a few times. "This isn't a fairytale, kiddo."

The thought came to him unbidden; 'If it was, I might be able to put right whatever that peach does to you with a kiss…' So caught up in fighting the blush rising to his face, Seto was thrown back onto his rear when the trap door unexpectedly popped open.

"Alright, alright. Who is it that seeks to cave my ceiling in?"

Mai's eyes widened at the sight of tall, messily star shaped hair emerging from the ground. Dark hair with violet tips and golden bangs...

Mai would know that hair anywhere.

Barely taller than the queen's shoulders, this new man had tanned skin – so much like Marik's – with eyes that shone ruby one moment, violet the next, depending on the shift of light. His voice was deep, the commanding tone of someone used to having his orders followed, but his attire – a faded grey tunic with the rusting remains of a full amour suit at his shoulders and chest – did not match his proud façade.

"A-Atem?" she gasped.

The man looked over with an impassive air, before he gasped as well and fell to the floor in a bow. "Mai – Er, I mean, _your majesty_! W-what are you doing in such a place?"

"I could ask you the same question." She tilted his chin up and he stood, following her hand. "Rise, Sir Atem, my most faithful of knights." She looked him over sadly. "So this really is where he sent you all those years ago…" She averted her gaze to the compact dirt at her feet. "I couldn't fly… I thought I wouldn't get here in time… I couldn't bear to see you dead–!" A hand flew up to stop the oncoming tears, but Atem reached out his own hand to halt it."

"It is alright," he said in a gentle tone. "My magic keeps the effects of the bog at bay."

Mai smiled, tears caught at the edges of her lashes. "And for such a blessing, I am truly thankful."

Meanwhile, Marik's eyes were wide, taking in every aspect of the man. A knight! A _real _knight, like the ones Isis was always drawing pictures of!

'Wait,' he thought, 'This guy looks familiar. Like…'

"_**Thank you, Yugi. I'm grateful for the help."**_

"_**No problem. I hope you do well in your quest. Oh, and if you meet my older brother please say I said 'hello', okay?"**_

"You're Yugi's brother!" Marik yelled, then flushed when everyone looked at him.

Atem smiled. "Yes, I am."

"I knew it. Yugi said to tell you hello. I met him when I entered the Labyrinth. You two are a lot alike."

Atem beamed, "Why thank you." He paused, blinking confusedly. "_Entered_ the Labyrinth? You mean you are the young prince Marik I've heard so much about?"

Seto and Tristan exchanged curious looks. "Prince..?"

Atem nodded. "Why yes, that is what everyone is referring to this young lad as. They say the king has his eye on wedlock. Everyone form Insect Hybrids to the Talking Trees is gossiping about it. A weeping willow told me, but I dared not believe it, and yet here you all stand, nay but an hour later." Then Atem's face turned frightened as his eyes landed back on the queen. "But that does not explain why you are accompanying this suicidal party, my Queen."

"Suicidal…" Tristan looked scared and Seto rolled his eyes.

"Seto?" Marik tugged on his trench coat. "What's 'wedlock'?"

The elf turned scarlet and cleared his thought as Tristan sniggered. "Never mind, Marik. It's nothing you need to know of."

Meanwhile, Mai stood tall, sure of herself, "I was originally going to see my boneheaded cousin to talk some sense into him, but now, thanks to his recent treatment of me, I just feel like kicking his ass!"

Marik giggled. But then he took in Mai's words.

"Mai… What do you mean 'recent treatment'?"

Seto averted his gaze, remembering the kiss. "Bakura… um, was the one who saved us from that Hybrid. Then he led us here because… because…"

"Because he's a jealous idiot, Marik," Mai said, "who can not see when people truly care about him. Now. If I am right, Marik hasn't much time left. Atem, please let down the barrier."

"But, my queen –"

"Atem," she said icily and he sighed, snapping his fingers and then bringing one finger, sizzling with purple light, to touch the transparent wall.

It dissolved into nothing in the blink of an eye.

Mai clapped her hands, pleased, "Wonderful. To the bridge, men!"

...

"What the hell is this?" Gozaburo balked. He was flanked by two burly guards.

The king was half way across the throne room, sitting in the large arch window, one foot dangling off the edge. It was oddly quiet, considering the number of goblins in the room, but none of them was brave enough to speak – or even move – lest the king's wrath fall on them instead.

"Oh, shut up, Gozaburo," Bakura said, eyes glazed as he looked out over the Labyrinth. "You were the one stupid enough to steel the princess Adina from the fairy village. This is your punishment. Deal with it. You're lucky that all your years of service has stopped you from landing on your dishonest ass in the dankest Oubliette I could find."

Emily stood beside the king, keeping her mouth shut about her part in the whole conspiracy. Gozaburo glared at her when the king wasn't looking, but, for whatever reason, he didn't dob her in.

'Probably thinks it better to have his allies outside the jail cell,' she thought.

"You can't do this to me Bakura!" Gozaburo struggled against the guards. "You need me! If it wasn't for me, that human would have walked all over you by now! Wasn't it me who stopped you from making a fool of yourself? If I wasn't here, you'd be licking his boots by now!"

A ripple of murmurs ran through the crowd and Bakura reddened in anger.

"I am no one's lap dog!" he roared, eyes glinting dangerously over his shoulder, and a few girl goblins screamed in fright as magic cracked round him like electricity. Then all was still again.

"Then where is the boy now?" Gozaburo challenged. "On his way to the castle, no doubt."

Bakura snarled, "He's in the bog."

Frightened murmurs overtook the crowd once more.

"Did you hear that? He said the bog!"

"The most retched place in the Labyrinth? Oh how cruel the king is, to send a child there!"

"But wasn't he infatuated with the child? How terrible must he be, to do that to the one he loves!"

The ex-advisor huffed, "I don't believe you! Show me proof!"

Bakura descended from his perch, teeth grit in agitation. He held up a hand, light shimmering and gathering in his palm before it turned into a gorgeous lucid sphere.

"You want proof?" He said. "Fine. I shall give you proof!"

He threw the crystal to the floor and it shattered in an explosion of light and sound that shook the walls of the throne room and swept a mist over the entire audience. The cavernous space turned instantly dark, the very back of the sea of goblins no longer visible in the purple-tinted blackness and the windows no longer offering light from the outside world.

In an almost beautiful contrast, pearly white smoke rose from the shattered remains of the crystal, forming a wall that nearly reached the ceiling. Like thunderclouds, the smoke slid over itself and cracked with blue streaks of magic-turned-lightening.

The entire room watched as a hazy picture swam into view. And there they all were, Marik out in front, just steeping onto the rickety swamp bridge while, a ways behind, Mai and Atem talked animatedly, the knight pleading with her to stay away from the castle and the queen remaining adamant. There voices were all amplified, as if through a microphone, and some of the parent goblins in the audience blocked their children's ears at the loud bickering that arose from the ogre and the elf at the back of the group.

Marik stopped suddenly, half way across the bride, eyes widening in horror and realization, before he turned back to Seto.

"_Wait," _he said._ "If the king was the one that saved us, that means he saw…" _He trailed off, looking at Seto, who's face reddened brilliantly.

Mai averted her gaze, clearing her throat._ "Does it really matter what my cousin saw?"_

Marik remained silent, and Bakura wished he had the ability to read the child's mind like he could with Seto, but there were limits to his power. His ability to read thoughts, or really, it was more like listening in on someone's own private talk show, was a delicate and rare trait that he had spent years learning, with rules and nuances that someone like Marik couldn't clear. For starters, the person had to be intelligent – which ruled out creatures like the goblins, who were too stupid to withhold important information of any kind – and another rule was that the person had to be his own age or older. That ruled out any humans indefinitely.

The elf's thoughts were reeking havoc on his eardrums though, and Bakura listened intently, astonished at what he was hearing.

'_Of course it matters what the king saw,'_ Seto thought. _'But what worries me more is what he didn't see. How could he know that Marik was just thanking me? That the boy was half lucid from his head colliding with the ground? Kiana, it's the king's own fault. That rancid ogre saw it too, how Bakura kissed Marik after he got rid of the Big Five, making a kiss out to be some sort of payment for his help. A child as sheltered as Marik, and living in the lap of luxury, from what I gather… I'll bet he's never had to thank anyone before, not for anything extraordinary like saving his life.'_ Seto hid his dejectedness well from the others. _'It's no wonder he kissed me… But Bakura, the logically challenged bastard, I'll bet he's sitting on his pompous ass right now, figuring out how to kill me in as painful a way as he can think of.'_

A hand touched his arm and Bakura was jolted from his reverie. Emily stared up at him, blue eyes inquisitive and the wings on her back flexing nervously.

"You look…" She bit her lip, careful not to overstep the boundary of master and servant anymore than she already had.

"I've just realized something, that's all," he said. And he had. He'd realized he'd been foolish and almost killed the one person he loved unconditionally by sending the boy to that horrid bog in a fit of childish _jealousy_.

After a minute, Marik began to walk again, amethyst eyes clouded over with worry.

"_I just don't want the king getting the wrong idea,"_ he said.

"_Why?"_ Tristan asked. He set a foot on the bridge, not hearing the small creaking sound it made in protest at the weight. _"I mean, the king isn't someone whose opinion you should worry about. Unless he's out to kill you, then by all means, __**worry**__."_

"_I've told Seto this before,"_ Marik said, _"but I like the king. Truth be told…"_ he turned around to look every one of his traveling companions in the eye, _"he's always been a very important person to me. He may have taken my brother, but right now I'm having the greatest adventure of my life, with the most wonderful friends I've ever made… The only friends I've ever made. It may sound weird, but I'm thankful to him for that, at least."_

"_Marik,"_ Atem asked reproachfully. _"Are you saying… that you care… about the king?"_

The blond nodded._ "More than care, really. I – __**Ahh!**__" _Marik screamed as the wooden slat of the bridge beneath him suddenly gave way. Tristan jumped in back onto the shore in fright, his weight jolting the rest of the structure and Marik grabbed onto a tree branch just in time, as the entire bridge slipped from it's supports and crashed into the bog with an enormous splash, before sinking quickly beneath the surface, as if something incredibly strong was actually _pulling _it downwards.

The child writhed like a worm on a hook, and Bakura had his hands half way raised with an almighty spell on his lips when he felt the cold stare of Gozaburo at his back. No, not just the advisor. Everyone was looking at him now, expectantly. The goblins, the guards, Emily…

After all those pretty words, Marik's sweet thanks, he'd look like such a sentimental fool if he saved the boy. His pride… could he really give up his pride as a king for this boy…?

Gozaburo smirked when Bakura lowered his hands.

...

Marik's eyes were wide with fear, memories of his previous encounter with Bandit Keith's henchmen, Zygor, and the struggle in the oak tree back home running through his mind and making him tremble.

But there was one thing he had here in the wilds of the Labyrinth that he did not have at home, in his tame and quiet neighborhood…

"Marik, hang on!" Seto shouted, gathering up the frayed rope of the bridge that hadn't fallen into the bog, making a lasso out of it. Mai flapped her wings subconsciously as she wished for her ability of flight to be restored and Atem put two fingers to his mouth and… whistled? Seto would have rolled his eyes if not for the situation. Seemed the dumbass knight was all talk.

"Marik!" Tristan called, "Marik!" He howled in anguish and Mai grasped his fur looking up into scared brown eyes.  
"Tristan," she sneered. "Do something! Help them! Don't be a coward!"

"I am!" He howled again, louder this time. It echoed all around them and rocks crumbled off the cliff on which the group stood. Seto missed another try with his lasso and he growled, "That's not helping you great oaf!"

The branch holding Marik cracked and there was now only an inch of support left for the frightened boy to cling to.

"Seto!" He screamed.

"Coming!" Seto missed another shot.

Atem looked around, as if waiting for something, then gave up and ran over to Seto, snatching the rope from him.

"What's your name?" He twirled the rope.

"Seto Kaiba, you pompous glory hound! Give me back my rope!" He watched, dumfounded, as the rope captured a sturdy tree branch across the bank

"Seto Kaiba," Atem said conversationally, backing up a few steps. "Please stay out of my way." A running jump and Atem was in the air, swinging in a perfect ark across the murky bog and capturing Marik in his arms a split second before the branch holding the boy snapped completely.

The two came to rest in the split trunk of a sturdy tree.

"You okay, young prince?" Atem asked and Marik nodded.

"Yeah, but what about getting the other's across?"

The knight chuckled, motioning to Tristan, who was still howling. "Watch."

The rocks that had loosened at the ogre's loud wails seemed to obey him more than expected. They drifted and rose and lodged firmly into place, creating a solid line of stepping stones across the bog.

Seto sat on the bank, frazzled. "Oh, that's just ridiculous."

"Ridiculous," Mai agreed, "but affective. Good work Tristan." She steeped on the first stone and blushed when it made a rather exaggerated farting noise.

"Um… thanks." Tristan followed her and Seto too, once the elf had dusted himself off. Atem and Marik both had to stifle their laugher at the noises and the embarrassed faces of their companions.

Once everyone was back on terra firma, Atem whistled again, and this time the whinny of a horse responded.

"Ah, better late than never," he sighed as a large mare emerged from the trees. Pale white, like the most brilliant ivory, and with blue and pink lights mixing to form a misty, translucent mane and tail, Marik was awed by the sight of the marvelous creature. But what really made the boy gasp was the horn that sat atop the creature's head, patterned like a hermit crab's shell but long like a spear and the color of an unblemished pearl…

"Ah, there you are, old friend," Atem said, hoisting himself onto the creature's back as it nuzzled Mai's hand. "Seems he remembers you Mai."

She giggled as a rough tongue licked her palm. "It's nice to see you again too, Apparition."

Seto grumbled, "Please tell me this does not mean you are coming with us."

"Of course it does," Atem answered. "I have to protect my queen, after all. I refuse to let her enter the Goblin city, let alone that castle, with only an ogre, an elf and a child for protection." He noticed Marik tentatively reaching out to touch the steed and said gently, "Marik, Apparition won't bite. I promise."

The boy brushed a hand over the creature's soft pelt, whispering, "A unicorn…"

Tristan scratched his head in confusion. "Yeah. Something wrong, little hero? Unicorns are pretty common in the Labyrinth, if you know where to look. Never seen one trained before though. They say it takes a true leader to be able to do that."

Atem smiled graciously, "Thank you, Tristan."

"Yeah, thanks loads," Seto quipped. "Why are you getting all emotional anyway, kiddo?'

Marik looked up at his friends and smiled embarrassedly, a few tears escaping his eyes. "You'd get emotional too, Seto, if you finally got to see something you'd spent half your life dreaming about."

...

The wall of mist dissipated with a wave of the king's hand and suddenly the entire throne room was filled with light and the sound of chattering goblin's once more.

"There is your proof, Gozaburo!" the king proclaimed. "The child is in the bog, just as I said."

"Ha! All I saw was a bunch of ragamuffin peasants on their way to overthrow you! They are out of the bog now, when you could have easily caused the branch holding that child to snap and ended this pathetic uprising!"

"Oh, but what fun would that be?" Bakura quipped, sitting on his throne once more. "I'm going to enjoy their suffering until the end, Gozaburo. I'm going to watch them get this close to me," he held up a hand, his finger and thumb not an inch apart," then I'm going to kill that elf, drown that knight in the bog, roast the ogre and lock my cousin in the deepest damn oubliette I can find… and Marik. I'll keep Marik here, with me." He smirked, showing sharp, fang-like teeth. "Who knows? Maybe he can be my new royal advisor. Guards, lock Gozaburo away. We're finished here."

The mustached man was dragged from the room, kicking and screaming, and Emily averted her eyes guiltily. Once the spectacle was over, the goblins began to mill around like usual and the harpy lady crept closer to the king's throne, looking over his shoulder.

The crystal ball Bakura had just conjured showed the group of travelers talking animatedly as they left the bog. All but one…

Seto remained, looking down at the foul smelling muck as if it held the answers to all the riddles of the universe. He extended an arm, the magic peach Bakura had given to him clasped in his hand.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you,' Bakura whispered, but that small sound made the elf jump, as if someone had just yelled in his ear.

Seto held the fruit close, looking down at it forlornly_. "Please… I just can't give it to him."_

"_Kaiba!"_ Mai's voice called out. _"Come on. You can play with the muck monsters later!"_

Tristan's sniggers followed and Seto sighed, pocketing the peach before walking off after them.

Bakura lowered the crystal and Emily drew patterns of the arm of the throne.

"My king," she asked, "What was Kaiba holding?"

"Something that will soon make Marik forget all about his silly little mission to rescue Mokuba." He put a hand to his chest, over his heart, Seto's words from before echoing in his mind.

"_**The emotion of love is an entity that cannot be explained nor controlled easily. You would need some awfully powerful magic to control your loved one's emotions… And that is power that I am doubtful even the almighty Goblin King may posses…"**_

"And something," Bakura whispered, "that will prove that true love is just a fantasy for pompous elves and children's stories. Because everything, even love, can be controlled."

Eleven chimes of a clock echoed across the Labyrinth.

**Well, there you have it. Truth be told, this chapter was shorter than most. I'll make sure the next chapter is longer. Did anybody have a favorite part? And has anyone noticed that everyone in the group has their own little nicknames for Marik? How about who I chose to play the knight? Objections? Comments? Please review! **


	11. As the World Falls Down

**Wow, people are still reading this. Thanks for all the awesome reviews! Thanks especially to ****Yugioh freak**** for all your long reviews! They always give me this "I must write more NOW" feeling. And thanks also to ****Aeternus-Spes**** for reviewing recently and showing me people still love this fandom. Glad Everybody liked Atem as the knight. You know, Rannaty commented that I used to write with a lot more description. I tried to tone it down last chapter, but I guess I went back to my old ways this chapter. **

**Anyway, hope everyone likes the ballroom scene. Two years later and this chapter still gave me hell. Here a secret; I have the entire draft of this fic written down in a little blue note book that I've lost and found about five different times, but I keep adding stuff on when I type it all up. Emily wasn't in the original and Adena was travelling with Marik. Isis, Malik and the family got no air time and the first scene with Zygor didn't happen. Oh, and I used to have Marik in a dress in this chapter. SO glad I changed that! I doubt anyone really cares, but I thought I'd write it down anyway, how this fic has evolved. **

**Anyway, I think I've ranted enough. Comments on how bad this fic used to be? Please review and tell me. And now, here's the long awaited ballroom scene. Enjoy! **

_**1**__**st**__** Labyrinth…**_

**Chapter 11: As the World Falls Down…**

Eleven chimes of a clock echoed across the Labyrinth.

Marik counted them, shoulders tense. Two hours. He only had two hours left.

A strong hand clamped down on his shoulder and the boy looked up into Tristan's eyes.

"Well do it in time, little hero," he said with a reassuring smile. Seto hung at the back of the group, watching the scene guiltily as he kept a hand in one of his many pockets, resting over Bakura's 'gift'.

Marik returned the ogre's smile, nodding. But a minute later, the frown was back in place. It was hard to keep one's hopes up for very long in this place. It seemed as though the boy had entered the forest an eternity ago, and the last time he'd seen the sun had been too briefly and too long ago an occurrence for his liking. Everything in the surrounding foliage was wet and covered in mildew and a frosty mist hung about everyone's' feet. Tall trees flanked the small leaved covered path the group traveled along, so that not even a pinprick of light showed through the dense canopy high above.

Atem pulled on Apparition's reigns, halting the unicorn. He looked round with a critical eye. "Mai, correct me if I'm wrong, but…" His gaze seemed almost hauntingly fixated on a single peach tree, much closer to the ground than its neighbors.

The queen halted too, gazing about before a smile lit up her face.

"Marik! We're almost there!"

Marik's eyes lit up, renewed hope and determination brewing behind the amethyst orbs. He looked at the path. Leading straight on into darkness, it didn't look too promising. But if Mokuba was near…

"What? How can you tell?" Tristan looked about too, but saw nothing of interest.

"It's not something you would recognize, sir ogre." Atem pointed to the peach tree. "This spot was a place where the queen and I used to meet about five thousand years ago, when I was teaching her majesty how to ride a horse."

Tristan smirked lewdly. "Oh sure, how to ride a _horse_."

Atem and Mai both blushed and the queen stammered indignantly.

"Why you vulgar creature! I'll have you know, this was also a picnic spot that we used to come to with Seto and Bakura quite frequently! Back in the day, it was lovely. The forest stopped at this very spot and you could see the entire city. But then Bakura put that garbage dump in the way…"

"The past is over, Mai," Atem said. "Shall we move on?"

"Of course," she said, then stopped and cast her gaze about the group. "Wait. Where have Seto and Marik gone?"

...

Seto sat on a tree stump a little ways off from the others. His forearms rested on his knees and he was gazing down at the golden armband that glittered on his forearm , exposed by his rolled up sleeve. His long, pointed ears had flattened in the same way a scared cat's would.

"Seto?" Marik asked hesitantly, stepping out from the foliage. "Are you okay?"

The elf covered the armlet once more and shook his head. "You know, kiddo, I really don't think I am." He looked up into the boy's eyes… those wide, trusting eyes that usually sent a thrill of devotion through him, the likes of which he had felt before only for his little sister. But now, all he could see was Bakura's angry face, blood red eyes overlaying Marik's own innocent ones.

The king's voice echoed in his mind. _"Give him the peach, Setlist…or you will die…"_

Seto took the peach from his pocket and Marik watched him curiously, eyeing the peach as his stomach made a small growling sound. The boy blushed slightly.

"Sorry," he said. "I haven't eaten anything since before I came to the Labyrinth."

Seto worried a lip between his teeth. Could he really do it? How was he supposed to choose? And how could this child be so trusting, anyway? Anyone else would have figured it out by now!

…But Marik wasn't like anybody else. He was special. He was the only weakness Seto currently had. He was Seto's one way ticket to the grave. It was time to make a choice. Either give him Bakura's item, or throw it away. Live or die.

"Here," Seto said, handing the fruit over. "You're hungry, right?"

Marik took it happily. "Thank you!" He held the peach close, thinking for a moment before finally speaking. "And… I'm sorry."

Seto looked at Marik, but the boy had his head bowed, flaxen locks shielding his expression.

"I'm sorry," the boy said again, "because I'm really glad you're here. I know that you're only going to the castle to rescue your sister, but all the same, it makes me happy that you're going there with me." One hand rose to wipe beneath the curtain of hair.

"Ever since that time…when the cleaner was coming at us, I've had these stupid thoughts whenever we get into danger. I think, 'At least I won't die alone', or 'thank goodness Seto is here'. I know it's selfish, to be glad that you're feeling pain too, but I've never felt that way before. I've never… wanted someone to be beside me when I'm hurting or scared like I want you there."

'No, Marik,' Seto thought. 'Don't say any more. Just shut up! Go away! I don't want to care about you!'

He felt his stomach tighten with a feeling of impending disaster as the boy went on, honesty in every syllable.

"This whole mess started because I wished Mokuba away. We were trapped by burglars and I didn't want him there. I thought I'd be happier if it was only me that got hurt."

Marik lifted his gaze, and although there were tears running down his cheeks, Seto had never seen a more genuine smile. "But with you… I don't know… I feel about you the way I used to feel about the Goblin King when I read my 'Labyrinth' book."

Seto felt a small thrill run through his chest. "You… feel…?" But Marik was so _besotted_ with Bakura…

"I love you, Seto," Marik said quietly. "You've been… more of a family to me in the time I've been in the Labyrinth, than my real family has been to me in all my life…" He held up the peach, laughing. "You've even given me food. I can't remember Malik or Isis ever doing that." And with that, hit bit down into the peach and swallowed.

Seto gasped. Time seemed to freeze, and a cold feeling working itself through the elf's limbs. He watched Marik grow still and the boy's eyes grow half lidded, legs giving out.

"Marik! No! Get up!" He caught the child before he hit the ground, kneeling in the dirt and holding him close. "I'm sorry, okay? Please, kiddo, stay awake and I promise I'll fix this!"

Footsteps were audible before Mai and Atem arrived at the scene, Tristan and Apparition close behind.

"Marik!" Mai gasped, falling to her knees before Seto and ripping the child from his arms. "What happened? Marik!"

"Seto…?" Marik whispered dazedly.

Atem grabbed the elf by his lapel, dragging him down to yell in his face, "What have you done, Kaiba?"

Tristan crouched down beside Marik pitifully. "Hey, little buddy. C'mon, wake up, please…?"

Mai cast her gaze at the peach in Marik's hand, the flesh revealed by the bite sparkling with something that looked almost like gold.

"An enchantment," she breathed.

Seto looked from one accusing face to another, before he turned and fled. He panted as he ran, "Damn you, Bakura… and damn me too!"

Behind him, the group watched helplessly as Marik's eyes closed completely, his heart slowing and his breathing becoming shallow. The voices around him blurred and mixed until slowly… slowly… he slipped into unconsciousness.

...

There were voices all around him; voices of hundreds of men and women that he couldn't recognize. Marik's eyes fluttered dazedly, then shot open when he saw just who it was that was leaning over him.

"Bakura!"

The king smirked, holding out a hand to help the child up. "I'm glad you remember me. May I have this dance?"

Marik looked about confusedly. "Dance…?"

The two stood in the centre of a ballroom. Every wall was a mirror, thousands of different images reflecting off of one another to make the already enormous space look as if it went on forever. The room was filled with humans – or what looked like humans – all covering their faces with masks of all types, from ones that were amusing to look at to others that were frighteningly grotesque. A line of grandiose chandeliers hung above, made of the clearest crystal, which shimmered and sparkled and cast rainbow reflections on the peach colored ceiling, while tapestries and plumes of gemstone embroidered silk dripped down the walls to pool majestically on the marble floor.

Marik stared at himself in one of the mirrors, taking in his new attire. He was wearing boots now, fancy boots that went well with his tight black pants and the glittering lavender coat he had on over a white dress top. The king was wearing much the same, except in a stunning sapphire color. Marik didn't like it. He didn't like playing dress up with the king when he had more important things to do…

…What was it he had to do again…?

Bakura saw the child's hesitation and lifted a hand to smooth his own hair back. That single gesture sent a wave of blue magic sweeping over his form and Marik watched as Bakura shrank down until the two were eye to eye and Bakura was a twelve year old also.

"Now we match," the king said. His voice hadn't changed, still deep and raspy, but it did not seem odd in the slightest when paired with that face, the narrowed red eyes still holding a wealth of knowledge that could only be attained over countless millennia. "This should take care of the height difference. Now… dance with me, Marik…" He extended a hand and Marik took it, still trying to compose his own thoughts.

"I'm supposed to be… doing something important."

"All you have to do now is dance…"

"Dance…"

The two swept out onto the dance floor and a hauntingly sweet melody began to play.

"Marik," Bakura whispered, holding the boy close, "You won't need anyone else from now on…" He looked down into heavy lidded eyes. "I'll be your everything…" He sang low, in Marik's ear and the blond relaxed, the music moving his feet for him…

"_There's such a sad love  
Deep in your eyes, a kind of pale jewel  
Open and closed, within your eyes  
I'll place the sky… within your eyes…"_

_**Marik felt the book ripped from his fingertips and he blinked dazedly at the now vacant spot he was reading from a second ago. Malik stood over him, a wide sadistic grin in place, waving the tome teasingly.**_

"_**Get your head out of the clouds, dumbass," Malik said. "No one in this book is ever gonna be there when you need it." He took a page firmly in hand and tore it half way out. "See? Just paper. No good to anybody."**_

"_**Give it back!" Marik leapt at his brother, snatching back his beloved Labyrinth book. Malik left, laughing, and Marik's eyes shone with tears as he tenderly glued the page back in.**_

"_There's such a fooled heart  
Beating so fast, in search of new dreams  
A love that will last, within your heart  
I'll place the moon… within your heart…"_

_**It was nighttime, and Marik was sitting on the porch of his house when he saw Joey running up the path excitedly. He grinned up at the puffing blond.**_

"_**Didn't know you were that eager to see this movie, Joey."**_

"_**Can't… waste time," Joey wheezed, leaning his hands on his knees. "Sister… in town today. Gotta… see 'er."**_

_**Marik watched the boy finally regulate his breathing and he forced a smile. **_

"_**Another time then?"**_

"_**Yeah, sorry," Joey said, spinning around and running away. Marik watched him go before pulling out his Labyrinth book and looking up wistfully at the full moon. **_

"_As the pain sweeps through  
Makes no sense for you  
Every thrill has gone_

_Wasn't too much fun at all  
But I'll be there for you,"_ Bakura traced a finger reverently over Marik's cheek. _"As the world falls down…"_

_**It was the end of Marik's first day in kindergarten and the schoolyard buzzed with the clamor of children waiting to be picked up by their parents. Marik watched the gate until Rishid's BMW pulled up and both he and Isis stepped out. **_

_**Whispers started behind him.**_

"_**Wow, that Marik's parents sure are young."**_

"_**No, that's his two body guards. They're so big and quiet. Scary."**_

"_**I don't like Marik. He's always reading and when he talks, it's a bunch of rubbish about kings and goblins."**_

"_**Goblins? Scary…"**_

_**Marik clutched his book to his chest, a large picture book written by some guy named Arthur Hawkins. The teacher had said he wrote books for big kids too. Marik thought that he'd definitely like to read the 'Labyrinth book' she was talking about when he was old enough to.**_

_**Marik left the whispers behind when Rishid waved to him, but his entire schooling since then had been the same as that day. It wasn't much fun at all.**_

"_Falling…"_

Bakura twirled Marik about, taking in the child's memories as the spell worked its magic around the two of them.

_"Falling down…"_

Bakura was getting to know Marik in a new way, a way no one else knew him…

_"Falling in love…"_

"_**My life has changed forever…"**_

Bakura started. What was that? It was Marik's voice, but it sounded so different… so cold…

The goblin king almost lost track of both his song and the spell it caused due to that particular splice of the child's memory. He hugged Marik closer, a feeling of dread and protectiveness taking over.

"_I'll paint you mornings of gold  
I'll spin you Valentine evenings  
Though we're strangers till now  
We're choosing the path, between the stars  
I'll lay my love… between the stars…"_

_**Marik lay in a hospital bed, his entire torso and part of his face bandaged, listening to the voices outside his door. They were muffled, but the tone of each voice was audible all the same. **_

"_**Please, doctor, tell me, will he be alright?" His mother was panicking. He thought she sounded like she had a lump in her throat.**_

"_**He'll be in a lot of pain for a while, but eventually he'll recover. Luckily the knife used was hot. That at least prevents infection." The doctor's tone was clipped and concise, that of a true professional. "What I can't understand, Mrs. Ishtar, is why you left your son alone with a madman like that. You said you knew of your husband's schizophrenia. How could you leave your child with him?"**_

"_**I… didn't think it would ever get this bad. I thought we had everything worked out. I told him I was leaving, marrying Jason instead. I didn't think he'd take it out on Marik…"**_

"_**Well, thanks to your lack of tact, your husband is now in a mental facility and those scars he carved into your son will most likely never heal. Not the ones on his face… or his back…"**_

Bakura's eyes widened and he clutched Marik instinctively closer, grasping at his thoughts to try and put them into some sense of order. Marik was scarred. But he'd told Seto in the underground caves that his father was dead and he'd had the scars on his face since he was born, and he'd lied with little hesitation. Marik was used to lying…

None of Marik's friends in the Labyrinth really knew him at all…

He slipped his arm around Marik's back, but it was no use. The clothing was too thick and Bakura could only wonder how large those scars really were. He felt the boy begin to tense, the spell wearing off, so he began to sing again, intent to see more.

"_As the pain sweeps through  
Makes no sense for you  
Every thrill has gone  
Wasn't too much fun at all  
But I'll be there for you…"_

"_**Thank you Rishid," Marik said as his adoptive brother sat on the chair beside his hospital bed. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't got there when you did, but it probably would have been something more painful."**_

_**Rishid leant over Marik's bed, clasping the child's limp hand in his.**_

"_**I should have gotten home sooner… Please, forgive me master Marik! I promise to always protect you from now on!"**_

_**Marik smiled lightly into the pillow. "Can I ask you a favor then, big brother?"**_

"_**Anything, sir," Rishid breathed. **_

"_**Would you… read to me now? From my Labyrinth book?"**_

It had been five thousand years since Bakura had let anyone see him shed a tear, but seeing Marik's past laid bare this way… So much heartbreak… So much pain… So much abandonment…

Bakura buried his head into Marik's shoulder, ignoring the whispers around him of them of the phantom people he had created.

"_As the world falls down…"  
_

Marik pulled back from the king, pain in his eyes from all the dredged up memories. But there was something that hurt more than those memories… somewhere, in the back of his mind, there was someone… someone he'd lost recently, someone whose birth made his whole family put that dark time behind them…

The grandfather clock in the corner chimed and the sound made the music halt and everything – the dancers, the lights, the swaying of silk – stop.

Marik's eyes flew open. Another chime. Both hands of the clock rested on twelve. He had one hour left, one hour to get out of here, find his friends and –

Chime!

"Mokuba! I have to save Mokuba!" Marik pushed Bakura away and the king stumbled back, morphing into a teenager once again. The blond didn't stay to talk to him, to tell him off for dredging up a past that Marik never wanted anyone – _especially_ not the king he'd idolized for so long – to see. Spotting a small stairwell off to the side, Marik bolted for it, the phantom people crowding in his way, drinking and flirting and still pretending that all was well.

Chime!

Once at the bottom of the stairs, Marik found himself in a small bar bereft of people. The sound of merriment and the remains of the song Bakura had sung were muffled here.

"_Falling… Falling in love…" _

Marik grit his teeth. That song! It had… _done_ _something_ to his head, and now the images from years ago were slowly brimming to the surface once more. He swallowed, eager to get rid of the sudden dryness of his throat, and looked around again. The sight of the floor made him stagger momentarily. The floor was made of glass, thin and polished, but that wasn't the worst of it. This place – this bar, the dance floor above, Marik and Bakura themselves – were _moving_, drifting on high through the air. Marik could see what looked like a junkyard below and the edge of what must be the goblin city.

Chime!

"We're in a bubble," Bakura said from behind him. "I've made us our own private world, Marik. Just you and I."

"Shut up!" Marik growled, surprising even himself.

Bakura regarded him with interest, "Well now, there's a side of you I haven't seen in a couple of years. Last time I saw you bare your fangs was at your tenth birthday."

Marik's expression turned shocked, then he asked sadly, "You've known me that long? Or was it longer? Could _you_ have stopped my father four years ago?"

"I've only known you for two, Marik," Bakura said. "If I had known what was happening to you when it did, I would have killed your father on the spot."

Chime!

Marik lowered his gaze. "You used that song to get inside my head. You brainwashed me. How can I believe anything you say?"

But Marik wanted to believe… He wanted to believe so _badly_.

Bakura stalked forward and the blond backed up.

"I needed to know what I was going to make you forget," Bakura said. "The second you leave this bubble, every memory I've recently dredged up will disappear into the deepest recesses of your subconscious. You won't remember how you got those scars, or Mokuba, or your family, or even your friends in the Labyrinth." Marik stared at the king now, panic in his eyes. "All you'll remember is me, Marik. Everything else, everything that ever hurt you, will be _gone_."

Chime!

Marik gulped, "You're trying to scare me!"

"How?" Bakura asked. "By telling you the truth? Stay with me, Marik. If I release Mokuba from the dungeon, he can stay in the castle with us too."

"But there are people back home who miss him," Marik said in a small voice, "who might… miss me too."

"I can't send a child home unless someone defeats the Labyrinth as a testament to that child. You know that, Marik. You can both stay, you with your memories and the child unharmed… or the other option is you can loose everything and I'll make that child a goblin for causing me so much trouble."

Chime!

Marik picked up a light barstool, regarding Bakura carefully. "Or I can remember, finish the Labyrinth and leave."

"You won't remember," Bakura sounded certain. "Despite how highly I think of you, even you are not that strong."

Marik shook his head determinedly. "I am strong! If I can survive getting those scars on my back, I can overcome your brainwashing!" He lifted the stool high in the air.

Chime!

Bakura lurched forward, yelling, "Marik, you can't!"

"Yes I _can_…" And with that, Marik smashed the barstool against the floor.

The king froze, mid step. And at first, Marik thought it didn't work. Only a small indent showed in the otherwise pristine floor, but as the boy shifted his weight, there was a small sound, like a fire crackling. It grew louder and louder by the moment as cracks quickly branched out from the indent at the boys' feet. A second later, the glass looked almost like a giant spider web.

Chime!

The glass shattered.

**Here's a surprise. I wrote all that in one sitting. And now I have a severe headache. It got pretty angsty there too. I bet no one expected that from the ballroom scene. I even put on the Yu-Gi-Oh! episodes with Marik's past and his alliance with Bakura for inspiration. Anyway, if you liked it, please review. **


	12. The King's Confession

**Hi everyone! Sorry for the wait, but this chapter was a huge pain to write. I enjoyed it, but between the writer's block, broken computer (I'm currently using my new one) and sudden back-to-UNI fever, there were a few moments where I started pulling my hair out. Good news though, for all you patient yaoi fangirls out there, this chapter get a little… **_**heavier **_**than others. So be warned. **

**On another note, I just noticed that lately, the chapter numbers are matching up with what time it is in the Labyrinth. Pretty awesome fluke, I gotta say. Also, I've been cleaning up my earlier chapters in the ways of spelling, grammar and minute plot holes. So I'm sure they'll be easier to read now.**

**Okay, now here's a treat; I'm putting together a Fan Soundtrack of all the songs that I listen to when thinking of this story. Any music used in the story will also go in there, including songs that I associate with the characters and their situations. But I don't wanna do the FST if no one wants it, so if you'd like me to make one, please, visit my profile page and contribute a vote. ^-^**

**Well, I've rambled enough. Enjoy!**

_**1**__**st**__** Labyrinth…**_

**Chapter 12: The King's Confession…**

The glass shattered.

Cleopatra Ishtar stared, wide eyed, at the broken hallway mirror. She had just stopped a second to fix her make up – her mascara having run for the umpteenth time from all the tears she had been shedding – and the mirror had just… broken. Now she was thoroughly spooked, because for that split second – between the first mysterious crack in the centre of the mirror and the eventual explosion of glass over her best dress – she could have sworn she had seen Marik _standing_ on the other side of the mirror. She had seen the bottoms of his shoes and something like a stool in his hands, eyes looking down at her in steely determination.

'I'm losing it,' she thought.

She heard hurried footsteps before Jason ran in from the kitchen.

"Everything okay? I heard…" He stopped, wide eyes taking in the sight of his wife covered in glass. Shards of it glittered on her clothes as the light caught them and a small trickle of blood dribbled from a sleek gash on her cheek. She turned to him with frightened, sad eyes and a guilty frown.

"Jason," she said, and her voice was calmer than one would expect from someone in her situation. "Jason, do you think I'm being… _punished_ for what I did?"

He regarded her carefully before he asked, "And what is it you think you've done, hunny?"

"Because Mokuba was born out of wedlock," she said. "Because I was with you before I left my ex-husband… Because… that man caused my Marik so much pain when he found out…" Her voice trailed into a sad whisper. "I think I'm being punished."

Mouth thinning in understanding, Jason pulled a handkerchief from his tuxedo pocket and started to wipe her face. He still had on his clothes from the previous night. He had only recently managed to get his wife to take a shower and change.

Since their talk with the chief of police, the couple had been inseparable. Looking back on their behavior and being the trained psychologist that he was, Jason could clearly see that they had exhibited stereotypical reactions to the grief. They had been angry at first, and wrongfully blamed and berated Isis as a result, then they had proceeded to try to block out the harsh reality of their missing children by using each other's embrace as a shield. Now, Jason believed his wife to have moved on to the third stage on the road to accepting her loss…

Blaming herself.

Contrary to the whispers circulating around the neighborhood, Cleopatra and Jason were not _just_ worried about Mokuba. No, they did fear for Marik's life also. The boy had suffered the most because of the family's inability to interact, even before his father had marked him in that inhumane way. After the 'incident', as they called it, Cleopatra's guilt had overwhelmed her whenever she had shared even the smallest amount of time alone with Marik. It was a subconscious change that both she and Jason had undergone, learning to ignore the child even more. By ignoring Marik, it was as if they were stowing away the bad memories of 'the incident', refusing to let the scars of the past interfere with their happy, wealthy new lifestyle.

Jason had just recently comprehended his behavior, and he was sure his wife was feeling the same shame that he was.

"It's not your fault, Cleo," he said with absolute certainty. "No one is being punished here, but it is true that when – not if, _when_ – we get our children back, we are going to have a lot to make up for."

The glass covered woman put her own hand over Jason's on her cheek.

"I saw him," she said dazedly. "I saw my baby boy in the mirror. He looked so strong, so determined. He looked more alive there – wherever he was – than he ever looked in this house."

Abrupt footsteps echoed above, a few doors opening and slamming at intervals, before Malik and Isis descend the stairs in a panic. Malik was pulling on his leather jacket hurriedly, his bike helmet tucked under his arm, while Isis followed with her hair still messy and still trying to slip her shoes on between steps.

"And you're sure it was a different voice from last time?" Malik asked hurriedly.

"It wasn't just _a_ different voice," Isis said frantically. "It was _Marik's_ voice!"

Both children stopped at the foot of the stairs, meeting their parent's bewildered eyes. Malik was the first to speak, dragging a slightly scared looking Isis behind him as he walked to the door.

"Fuck whatever you're going to say, mother!" he spat rebelliously. "Isis _didn't_ cause this stupid mess, but she's gonna help me fix it anyway. We're going out!"

He pushed Isis out onto the lawn and slammed the door after them.

...

Marik's eyes fluttered open as the sound of the twelfth and final chime resonated in the air. He slowly sat up from where he had his face buried in his Labyrinth book. He was lying on his bed, feet resting up against the headboard. He propped himself up, gazing about his room. It looked the same as always. His small four-poster bed was piled high with lavender pillows and stuffed animals and Isis old vanity was over on the right, serving as a temporary makeshift desk. He looked at himself in the mirror, and then looked down. He was wearing his old clothes, the ones he had had on before going to the Labyrinth.

A wave of immense pain unexpectedly lanced through the child's head, and he clutched his temples, trying desperately to keep his current train of thought. "I went to the Labyrinth…? No. It was a dream, right? But… I remember…"

What _did_ he remember? Glass shattering, tortured screams of a multitude of people echoing from above him… and then slowly falling, while tendrils of silk and fragments of glass disintegrated into nothingness all around him…

'But that was just a dream,' he thought. 'I'm still here, on my own bed, and my parents are probably going to be home soon. My parents and…'

…and no one else. Because he was an only child, right?

There was a knock at the door, and Marik shook off the nagging feeling his thoughts had produced.

"Come in," he said, and the door opened to reveal a _very_ familiar looking white haired teen with crimson eyes.

"Bakura!" Marik gasped, backpedaling into the headboard. He winced as his head connected with the wood, and then mentally berated himself when he took in the stranger's appearance again. The Goblin King must have just been a dream after all, because this person in the doorway certainly was not him. Bakura was dressed in casual aqua jeans and a pale yellow jumper.

"Finally awake, I see." He chuckled good-naturedly. "Every time I visit you, I find you with your nose in a book."

"Every… time?" Marik echoed dumbly, watching Bakura sit comfortably on his bed. "But you… how do I…?"

'How is it that I know you already?' Marik wanted to ask. 'Was that really a dream? It must be. I barely remember anything except…'

"I wished," he said suddenly, and Bakura gave him a curious look.

He elaborated, "I wished for… something… for something to be taken away. And I met you, the Goblin King. I was… _searching_ for something…"

Bakura gave a small smile. "Marik, I can assure you, I am no king. But…" He took the boy's hand, brought it to his lips, and placed the briefest of kisses to it. "But if I _was_… I would always feel like an unworthy servant in your presence."

Marik regarded Bakura carefully. This man, sans all the regalia that he had been seen with prior, looked so vulnerable. He looked as though just having this talk with Marik was costing him more than he cared to loose.

_**I love you…**_

Marik tore his hand away, startled at the sudden memory. He had said those words… but to whom? Had it been to Bakura? No. There was someone else. That someone had betrayed him, but Marik still cared about them…

_**I feel about you the way I used to feel about the Goblin King when I read my 'Labyrinth' book…**_

Family. That one word explained everything. When Marik had read the Labyrinth book all those times before, he had needed a family. He had wanted a kind of comfort and companionship that no one he knew at the time had wanted to give to him. However, he had found that family now, not in the Goblin King, but in…

"Seto…" Marik breathed, eyes widening in realization.

Bakura tensed momentarily, before grabbing Marik's upper arms and dragging him in close.

"Don't say that name," he hissed. "That person no longer exists. He was just a bad dream. I'm here now and you _don't_ need _anyone_ else." Then he sealed his lips over the boy's in a rough kiss. It was not like the last time, though. No, this time, Bakura rejected Marik's slow, lingering pace for something more primal, more heated. Two years of his pent up craving for the boy went into _this_ kiss. He could not even remember the time at which his dreams had morphed from those cute, chaste fantasies into this unbridled, lustful obsession. He wanted to lick every inch of that smooth skin so that only he knew how Marik really tasted. He wanted to pry open those sweet lips and pump his breath down Marik's throat until they were breathing the same air. He wanted to be inside the boy, so deep under his skin that no one, especially not that elf, could ever drag him out…

Marik gasped, mouth opening to Bakura's onslaught as his legs gave out with the unexpected press of weight. They both fell back against the bed, Bakura moving to cover him completely, pressing and rubbing their bodies together slowly, and Marik arched up into the resulting jolts of pleasure that raked over his body. The king's tongue mapped out the child's mouth, taking in that addictive taste of _magic _once more. Their harsh breathing began to interfere with the kiss, until all Marik could do was tilt his head back and try to remember how to breathe as Bakura's tongue lapped at his open mouth.

After one last time thrusting his tongue into Marik's mouth and licking the boy's own sleek muscle, Bakura moved on in his quest to worship the body beneath him. He planted open-mouthed kisses down Marik's neck, teeth gently sinking in for a second at the collarbone before he sucked the lingering mark. His hands slipped up under the boy's shirt, skating over startlingly defined abs and the creamy skin of hard pecks, before he rubbed his thumbs almost violently over half-hard nipples. Marik let out a startled cry, gripped the duvet in a white knuckled grip and _writhed_.

Bakura had never seen a more beautiful sight. He was sure that Marik's siblings would probably crucify him for doing this, but they were narrow-minded fools anyway, so their opinions held no weight. He never could understand the backward society that his mortal brethren inhabited, and the skewed way in which they labeled anything slightly different from their own customs as wrong or perverted. As far as Bakura was concerned, he with the one person he cared about more than anyone or anything else, and he was finally able to make that person feel good, make them forget about whatever pain they had suffered in the past. What was so wrong about that?

Lifting Marik's shirt up until it was bunched up below his collar, Bakura lowered his lips and began trailing hot, wet kisses up the to the boy's tanned, quivering stomach, until he was able to wrap his lips around an equally tanned nipple. He ran his tongue over it roughly; delighting in the feel of Marik's body pressing up into his, the hardness encased in those tight jeans rubbing frantically against his stomach in a way that set his every nerve on fire. He moved upward a fraction laying his head on the boy's chest, taking in the faint sound of Marik's accelerated heartbeat.

"Finally," he whispered, breathing shallow. "_Finally_… I'm close enough to hear this…"

The brief pause gave Marik time to compose himself. He looked down at the pale face resting upon his chest, snowy white hair pooling across his dark skin, serving as a painful reminder of how different he was from the king. Practically _feeling _the child's stare, Bakura turned to look up at Marik. Hard rubies drowned almost instantly in liquid amethyst.

"Bakura…" Marik murmured, dragging the king up to kiss him again. And just like that, the haze of lust gave way to something better; a soul-binding connection that was more powerful than any kind of family-like ties Marik had formed with his elf friend.

_**Elf…**_

_**It's a beautiful place, full of goblins, elves, fairies, beasts and knights…**_

Marik's brows furrowed minutely as the languid kiss continued. Yes, he had told Joey all that… but something was different when he thought about that conversation now. The names of those creatures carried more weight now. The name of each fantastical phenomenon caused a million hazy and fragmented memories to surface and recede before Marik could make sense of them.

"Marik," Bakura murmured against the boy's lips, taking the boy's tanned bottom lip between his own, nibbling on it lightly.

"Bakura," Marik whispered in response, his hands coming up to cup Bakura's face, fingertips slipping softly up into the king's soft curtain of hair.

Somewhere between the startling flux of emotions caused by the king's sudden advances and the current slow ebbing of lust from his veins, Marik's thoughts had been reduced to a dull haze of images that blurred together in a dreamlike mix.

However, one thought stood out in frightening clarity, the realization that this, whatever he had here with the goblin king, was not the familial bond he had wished for when he first started reading the little red book that was his sole source of comfort.

It was more.

With as many muddled memories as the tanned boy had, he was finding it hard to pinpoint why he was so attracted to this incredibly prideful and infuriatingly aloof man. All he knew was that Bakura had never hurt him physically, and never directly caused him emotional pain. And that was all Marik need to know.

They broke apart slowly, the sleek sound of their lips sliding apart being the only sound in the quiet room.

"Marik," Bakura said quietly, almost inaudible. "I… I have to tell you…"

_**I was… searching for something…**_

'No,' the tanned boy thought. 'I have everything I need right here. What else could I possibly wish for?'

Marik gazed up into Bakura's eyes and the king raised himself up slightly.

_**I wish…**_

Bakura bit his lip anxiously for a second before he buried his face in the crook of Marik's neck to hide his expression.

"Love you…Marik…" he breathed. "I love you…"

Marik's eyes widened in surprised and the very notion of the confession made him near giddy.

'Someone loves me,' he thought.

Marik opened his mouth to answer…

_**I wish…**_

…and closed it again, trying to puzzle out that persistent memory. There was something wrong still. Some unrelenting part of his brain was telling him that Bakura was_ not _the person he should be focusing on right now. There was something else that he needed to be doing, _someone_ out there that he could not let down.

_**I wish the goblins really would come and take you away…**_

The epiphany hit Marik with almost physical force.

…_**right now.**_

"That wish!" Marik screamed, sitting up with enough vigor to throw the off-guard king unceremoniously to the floor. Everything was suddenly flooding back into his mind, from his earliest childhood memories up to the exact moment at which he had felt his mind shatter, when he and Bakura had fallen through that glass floor.

Clarity returned quickly, images of Mokuba, alone and shivering in the depths of the castle dungeon, flashing across his mind.

"I – I remember!" Marik gasped. "I have to save Mokuba!" He ran for the door, but Bakura was faster, scrambling to his feet and blocking the exit.

Marik looked up at the king's face, but Bakura's eyes were shrouded behind his hair and his mouth was a tense line. His hands were balled into quaking fists, shoulders tensed. Marik realized, too late, what had happened. The king had, just seconds ago, laid his heart bare, only to be stomped on in the cruelest of ways.

Marik had not even acknowledged his confession.

"Bakura –!" Marik started, but the king did not give him time to say anything. In a split-second fit of anger, the monarch had lifted his arm, letting a ball of blue light explode from his hand and blast the wall apart. The desk was thrown clear across the room with the force, hitting the adjacent wall and splintering apart upon impact. The bed tipped on its side and smoke filled the air, swirling about the small space like a miniature whirlwind. All four walls then caved in on themselves, a sea of rubbish pouring in from behind the plaster. The dust slowly receded, and there, at the top of a mound of dirt and debris, silhouetted against the light of the setting sun was the fairy queen, Mai Valentine, looking down at Marik as though he were a ghost.

"Marik…?" She whispered confusedly, before she caught sight of Bakura's figure emerging from the cloud of copper dust behind the boy. "Marik!" Frantic now, she clamored down over pots and pans, stopping when she realized the climb too steep. She held on to the edge of the surface, reaching a hand down to the young boy. "Marik, quick! He's behind you!"

"But…" Marik looked over his shoulder at the king, regretting it instantly. The monarch lifted his head to reveal a fierce glare. He looked down at Marik with a kind of disappointed disgust.

"Go on then, you worthless mortal," he said. "Go save your brother. You can't afford to fail now. Because if you do, I'm going to kill him. His very existence has caused me no end of trouble and, goblin or fairy, I don't want that thing in my realm when this is all over. However, I will caution you that your victory is near impossible now. That blast was a flare of sorts, a message to my goblin army. They now have orders to bring you and your 'followers' under my rule… dead or alive."

Marik looked up at Bakura with a sad sort of confusion.

"But you're the Goblin King," he said with a forced chuckle. "You're the person from my dreams, the magical friend I always wanted. You'd never be so heartless, right?"

Mai watched a slow aura of purple start to radiate from Bakura's form, the king's eye twitching at the word 'friend'.

"Funny," he said coldly, "Not to long ago I would've thought the same of you." He lifted his hand once more and another orb of blue energy began to form. Marik backpedaled in fear and Mai screamed the human's name at the top of her lungs, hand reaching out for him desperately just before everything disappeared in a white-hot soundless explosion.

...

"Marik!" Tristan called the name frantically as he stumbled over mounds of garbage, taking huge, uneven steps that looked garish in comparison to Apparition graceful galloping. The unicorn raced along beside him with Atem astride it.

"Hang in there little buddy!" the ogre called again. "Please don't die on us!"

"My Queen! My Prince! Where are you? Please, answer us!" Atem pulled Apparition to a halt and vaulted off, kneeling amidst the dirt, shifting charred metal and wood out of his way.

"Everything's all crispy," Tristan whimpered, jogging to a breathless stop. "I never thought the king had enough power to just _charcoal_ stuff like this."

"He's the king. What else did you expect?" Atem grunted, heaving a large rock out of the way. He could see the entrance to an underground room now. "His majesty has tremendous power. This little display was nothing, probably just a minute self indulgent tantrum to him."

A muffled voice came from below; "You're wrong. He really is serious this time!"

Atem gasped, "Majesty!" and Tristan joined him in hefting aside the singed and foul-smelling debris until Mai's slender hand shot up from between the rubble and the two pulled her out. She was injured, gashes covering her arms and her wings having been crumpled and crushed behind her like dried leaves. Her hair was streaked with copper and her clothes torn and singed on one side.

"Mai!" Atem moved to cradle her, but stopped when she lifted her head and gave him a crooked, impish smile. In her arms, also covered in dirt but unharmed for the most part, was Marik. She began to stand, but her legs gave out and she slumped forward onto Atem's lap. Tristan quickly took hold of Marik, cradling him against his chest. The boy was unconscious, his chest rising and falling slightly with every breath.

"It's up to you boys now," Mai said. "Leave me. I'll be okay. You have to get Marik to the castle. He only has forty minutes left." Her voiced lowered to a half-serious whisper. "He's dragged us all this far. Now it's _our_ turn to pick up the slack, and get him past the final hurdle."

Tristan nodded and began walking towards the castle. He was glad to have his friend back safe. That moment, after Marik had eaten the peach, the child's body had vanished without a trace. It was only then that Tristan noticed just how deeply the child had become embedded in his heart. Now, even if it was a possibility that the goblin army might slay him and hang his pelt above the king's fireplace, he did not care. As long as Marik got home safe… That was the most important thing.

Atem hesitated, hands still around the queen.

"I can't leave," he said. "My duty to you…" Mai stopped him by placing a hand to his cheek.

"Atem," she said, "I will be fine." A nod at Tristan. "Right now, they need you more."

The knight heaved a sigh, stood up, and stretched both arms out in graceful manner. The tips of his fingers glowed a deep indigo, before he brought his hands together in front of him and a large quilt, the color of the queen's eyes, flickered into being. He pulled the quilt tight around the queen, grumbling about how he wished he could perform healing magic, and Mai smiled.

...

"Master Gozaburo?" Emily whispered as she walked down one of the filthiest corridors in the castle dungeon, past the rotted doors of the prison cells. She peeked in on occasion, casting her gaze over the snarling faces of goblin thieves and murderers, some of which she, herself, had had a hand in imprisoning. Her former master turned out to be in the last cell. He lifted his head at her voice.

"Well," he said, "if it isn't the wench. I suppose you're wondering why you aren't in here with me."

Emily's face was impassive. She said, "The thought crossed my mind."

Gozaburo laughed at her defiance. "The truth is," he said, "I have a favor I'd like to ask of you, though I suppose you can't really call it a favor, since it will involve you getting something out of it."

"Really?" Emily folder her arms as she glared distrustfully ay him through the slits in the bars of the door. "And what would I be getting, pray tell?"

The ex-advisor grinned snidely. "You're _lover-boy_, all to yourself."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

"All you have to do is follow the instructions I give you," Gozaburo said, "and you will be able to make a magic spell that will erase Marik completely from the king's mind."

The girl laughed mockingly. "Oh master, how wrong you are. Bakura has already tried a memory-loss spell on that wretched little human and – like always – Marik broke it with that disgustingly strong will of his. If a petty human could break such a spell, surely the great Goblin King could –"

"This is no ordinary spell to cause memory loss," he cut her off. "What Bakura did was the ethical method of taking all the boy's memories – both conscious and preconscious – and locking them in his unconscious mind. It is simply like taking your memory of our current conversation, and perhaps a memory from a week ago – something you wouldn't remember until someone asked you about it – and putting them in the same part of your memory that reminds you to breathe. He simply locked Marik's memories below the surface. Memories are still retrievable from there. However, had he used _this_ spell – a secret spell passed down though my family for generations – then that human wouldn't have been able to retrieve those memories, because they would have been _completely removed_ from his mind_._"

Emily gazed at Gozaburo in amazement. "It's possible?" She rasped, "To make Bakura forget about Marik completely?" Then she turned suspicious. "But what would you be getting out of it…?"

Gozaburo growled, "I'd be getting out of this jail, once you convince your new lover that my capture was a mistake. Back in Bakura's good graces, I can finally manipulate him to run this realm _my _way."

Emily shook her head. "I won't let you hurt him!"

"Oh, he won't be the one to get hurt," Gozaburo promised. At the winged woman's doubtful face, he elaborated, "Look at it this way, my dear servant. It's either this… or Marik gets him."

Emily bit her lip, steeled herself and asked seriously, "What do I have to do?"

...

Marik and Mokuba had been missing for over twelve hours now, and Isis held tighter to her brother's waist with the sickening thought that maybe, just maybe, all of Malik's and her own efforts were going to be in vain.

Isis had seen no traffic on this country road so far, even though it was about eight in the morning, and the city roads would probably be packed by now. They had been driving for a while now, the motorbike speeding down the highway with the engine blaring in her ears, and Isis had entertained the notion of giving up this wild goose chase at least three times since the start of their drive. However, she always dismissed the thought, because she could still feel that gentle pull at the edge of her mind, like the tugging of a warm hand, guiding her to a certain place. They were out in the suburbs now, half way to Othello pier. Sheer rock walls raced by on one side and, on the other, a cliff and the sparkling ocean that glinted with the light of the morning sun.

"Hey," Malik called over the din of the engine, "I'm gonna stop for a while and refill the tank, 'kay?"

She nodded and Malik brought the bike over to the side of the road, hopping off.

"You know," Isis said, taking off her helmet, "you're lucky you look older than you are, or that fake driver's license would never work." She dismounted the bike and leant against the metal railing that separated the road from the cliff. "I still can't believe mother and father never bat an eyelid over your irresponsible hooligan ways…"

"Geez," Malik grumbled, pulling a small tank of fuel from the compartment below the seat. "You'd think that, since my 'irresponsible hooligan ways' were helping us find the squirt and mini-me, that you'd give the lectures a rest for once, but oh no…" He started pouring in the fuel, gazing up at the pale sky absentmindedly. "It's kinda screwy though, don't you think, coming all the way out here because you feel this 'pull' in your brain, telling you that the brats are in this direction?"

"I know they're here," Isis said. "And I know that at least Marik, if not Mokuba as well, is in terrible danger." Her voice became soft, contemplative, "I heard him… he said, 'I am strong. If I can survive getting those scars on my back, I can overcome your brainwashing.' He didn't sound like the Marik I know. He sounded… _stronger._"

"Oh please," Malik said, putting the fuel away. "That kid, strong? Not a snowball's chance in Hades. He'll always be just a little bookworm who holes himself up in his room with those fairytales of his." Malik got back on the bike, leaning forward to let his hair fall over his eyes. His mouth was tight when he said, "But all the same, I say we try and find him and the kid as fast as we can."

Isis climbed on after, not even bothering to hide her smirk. She whispered teasingly, "You miss them, don't you?"

Malik jumped at the accusation and his foot hit the pedal on accident. As the engine revved to life once more, Isis let out a laugh that, for the first time in a long time, she felt was truly genuine.

"Shut up, sister!" Malik growled with a slight redness to his cheeks, slamming on the accelerator and startling her into silence. "You just better hope that psychic radar of yours isn't wrong!"

Taken aback by the words, Isis carefully took them in. 'Perhaps… Is that really what I am?' she thought. 'Someone gifted with psychic abilities…?'

...

The burly guard hit the ground with a thud and Tristan waved Atem over with the arm that was not carrying Marik. Both men and the unicorn slipped around the narrow entryway and into a large alcove that led to the gates of the goblin city. Above the high wall, the spires of the king's castle pierced the sky threateningly.

"It's pretty quiet," Tristan said, looking ahead at the narrow, uneven cobblestone street and the ramshackle houses of the barren city.

"Indeed," Atem said, flicking Apparition's reigns softly to spur the suddenly wary animal onward. "Too quiet, if you ask me."

A sudden metallic grinding sounded through the air.

"See, what did I tell you? Move!" Atem yelled and they both jumped backwards as a heavy set of steel doors swung inward and slammed together at the exact place on which they had just been standing. Blue lightning zipped up through the seam in the doors – a sure sign of Bakura's personal brand of magic, Atem noted – and an enormous monster detached itself from the design in the doors, steam pumping from its rusty joints and chains rattling around its form. It lumbered towards them, red eyes blazing in its sockets as it reached a chunky hand up to another part of the doors' design and detached an oversized axe. It swung the weapon around in a fluid ark and Atem flattened himself against the unicorn's back to avoid it.

Tristan jumped back, turning to flee, but skidded to a stop at the sharp row of spikes that had suddenly materialized in front of the exit. Blue sparks still licked about the gleaming spears and Atem growled at the king's latest trick.

"Dude," the ogre said, turning to face the monster again. "It's a trap!"

"Oh really?" Atem bit back sarcastically, steadying a now thoroughly spooked Apparition. "What was your first clue?"

The ground shook with every heaving step the giant took towards them, as it swung its axe in deadly arks across the width of the alcove.

The knight, having calmed Apparition, dramatically unsheathed his sword. He called, "Tristan, protect Marik!" before both horse and rider sprang forward into battle.

"I'm on it," the ogre smirked, setting Marik down and ripping a metal water pipe off of the left hand wall. He brandished it, standing with his feet parted in front of the tanned boy like a baseball batter. He baited the machine, "C'mon, big fella, just try it!"

Atem let out a battle cry, swinging his sword in a gleaming ark at the monster just as it brought its axe down for another blow. Ancient gold met polished steel and the knight fought to hold his own against the machine's great strength.

The machine's other hand groped blindly at the ogre, trying to get a good grip in hopes of squeezing him to death, but Tristan defended himself well. Whenever the hand would dart forward, he would bat it away with the length of pipe. It was a good plan, the two Labyrinthians working perfectly in tandem, but it was still merely a means of buying time. They needed a plan, a way past this behemoth…

Atem gasped as the machine overpowered him. His sword was knocked clear out of his hands and sent spiraling up into the air. Tristan saw this, let his guard down momentarily in worry, and was swept off his feet by the monster not a second later. The giant grabbed the pipe from the ogre and broke it in two, before it set its sights on the knight once more. It lifted its axe high into the air. Atem tensed. There was nowhere to run without leaving Apparition behind as a sacrifice.

"It's okay, my friend," he said to the unicorn, his throat dry as he watched the sharp blade of the weapon gleam in the afternoon sunlight."We'll win together, or together… we'll fall."

"Atem!" Tristan called, just as the axe descended on the knight swiftly.

Then it stopped. The entire monster stilled, and a loud explosion blew the top of the monster's head clean off. A small, weedy goblin jumped out of the cockpit of the monster, ran along its shoulder and fled over the wall, all the while patting the fire from his clothes. Without its driver, the machine became just an oversized, harmless statue.

Tristan picked Marik up again and fetched Atem's sword before walking over to the stupefied knight.

"I guess we're saved," the ogre said. "But who...?"

A dark and all too familiar figure off to the side answered, just as Marik's eyes fluttered open.

"It was me," Seto said as he leaned, arms crossed, against the one of the alcove walls.

"Seto?" Marik gasped groggily, before his eyes realized that, yes indeed, it was really the aloof elf that was standing there. "Seto! You came back!"

Suddenly Tristan's arms were bare and Marik was clasping onto his elf friend for dear life. Completely taken aback, Seto stared down at the boy.

"Marik…?" he said, suddenly shy. "I don't understand. I gave you that peach. I helped Bakura put you under a spell. Don't you hate me?"

Marik faltered at the confessions, but Atem stepped forward with a knowing smirk on his face.

"Goodness, Kaiba," he said, "How could Marik ever hate you after you just saved us from that monster? I doubt a _complete_ traitor would _ever _do that."

It did not take long for Marik to puzzle out what had happened. He glanced over the gigantic machine in awe.

"Oh, I get it," Tristan snickered. "Kaiba's a softie at heart."

Seto growled, "Say that again, ogre, and I'll use the left over explosives I stole to put you into orbit." He turned to Atem, "And you'll go straight after, you pretentious know-it-all." Then he turned to Marik. "And as for you!"

Gentle, but amused amethyst eyes stared up at him. "I forgive you, Seto."

The elf's scowl softened and he averted his eyes, "Yeah, well, whatever." Collecting himself, he nodded towards the castle. "Come on then. I'm in this now, all the way to the end, so let's go get our siblings back."

Marik nodded. "Right." He began walking, but stopped, looking back at the junk yard. "But wait… There was that explosion in the junkyard. I must have blacked out… And Mai, where is she?"

Atem debated his options for a second, before placing a comforting hand on the child's shoulder. "Her majesty is fine. She'll catch up later, I'm sure. Right now, we have to try and get you into that castle before the goblin army can get to us." He looked at the dark spires of the castle and Marik followed his gaze, both sets of eyes narrowing in wariness at the task ahead.

"The final battle starts now."

**Well, that's all for now. I'm afraid I'm not too good at writing steamy scenes, but there are plenty planned in future for this story. With practice, I'll get better, promise. **

**Anyway, please review if you liked it! Ah reviews, the best cure for writers block. ^-^**


	13. The Great Goblin Battle

**Hi again everybody. First off, I'd like to say sorry to everyone for the long wait for this chapter. But hey, it's only fanfiction, right? There are much more talented authors than me out there, actually being published. Mathew Reilly's new book came out and I devoured it in only a couple of days. Another great group of authors is CLAMP. If you don't know them by now then YOU SHOULD. They're a fan of yaoi/ shonen-ai stuff, and my favorite couple – Kurogane and Fai from Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle – was made by them. I've also listed some great shonen-ai and yaoi mangas on my profile page. So, go check 'em out. **

**Ah, I seem to have gone off on a tangent there. Anyway, this chapter was… I'll say it honestly: A pain in the neck to write, especially since UNI exams are looming and I've had 2000 word essays up to my ears. But I did try my best on this chapter. Every time I thought, "Hey, I hate writing fight scenes, so let's just follow the original draft and make the fight scene only five pages long and **_**exactly**_** like the move", this little voice inside me said, "THINK OF YOUR READERS, YOU DITZ! Whatever small following you have wants to see your **_**best **_**work! They know the movie. They want something unexpected, something more exiting!" And that was how 5 pages turned into 18. **

**So, I think I've made you wait long enough. I hope this chapter was worth it.**

_**1**__**st**__** Labyrinth…**_

**Chapter 13: The Great Goblin Battle…**

"The final battle starts now," said Vivian Wong, watching as Emily sat in a darkened corner of the castle kitchen, bent over a small cauldron. "Are you really sure you'll be able to finish it in time?" She stepped forward, over the prone body of a sleeping Elvin maid. There were many bodies like this strewn across the floor, having dropped where they stood when the Harpy Lady had cast her sleeping spell. Vivian peered down at the green, bubbling goop that Emily stirred around the pot with a ladle.

"I'm sure," Emily said simply. "And isn't your job to keep watch?" She removed the ladle from the pot, blinking confusedly when she saw that a good portion of it had completely melted off. "I sure hope it's supposed to do that."

Vivian caught a sniff of the fumes wafting from the pot and hid her nose in an overly frilly sleeve. "Oh! That reeks! What are you going to say if Mr. Celibacy comes down here and gets a whiff of that? You won't be able to explain."

It took a second for Emily to realize that Vivian was once again displaying her contempt for not being used as star concubine when she referred to the king as celibate. The winged woman wrinkled her nose, annoyed with such disrespect.

"Bakura rarely, if ever, ventures down into this part of the castle," she said. "A king does not stoop himself to the level of a commoner." She sounded almost disappointed at that statement.

Vivian moved past her and peered through the smudged glass of the window over the sink. Her view consisted of the four males who had become so quickly famous throughout the Labyrinth. It was a rag tag lot: a beast, a worker elf, a washed-up knight, and the foulest creature of them all, a human. They were sprinting across the wide stretch of courtyard that led to the stairway that ascended to the castle's front gates. Behind them, the lanterns of the town were dimly lit in preparation for the oncoming dusk.

Suddenly, the group came to a collective halt. Looking to the side, Vivian saw why. It seemed the entire goblin army was out in force. Masses of stubby, black and brown colored bodies, shabbily dressed in rags and brandishing knives, had just emerged from their hiding places at the peak of the stairs. There were gob-knights too, goblins that rode on dinosaur-like beasts. They served the king on smaller tasks than Bakura's actual knights – who, like Atem, were human looking but distinct in the presence of their Labyrinthians blood – usually did. Each gob-knight held a colorful flag, which doubled as a lance. Vivian had no doubt that Seto Kaiba, the unflappable rock that he was, would not have looked so apprehensive if Bakura's aforementioned real knights weren't situated directly behind their goblin brethren, astride powerful gray warhorses.

The ramshackle knight, Atem, brandished his sword in a futile display of bravery, pulling the reigns of his steed so that the he and the unicorn provided a barricade between the assailants from the castle and his comrades. Seto was more discreet in his protectiveness, taking only the smallest of steps in front of Marik.

"Perhaps normal kings would not stoop so low," Vivian mused, "but ours seems to be pulling out all the stops in order to keep that boy here."

Emily clenched the half-ladle tighter, baring her teeth. "Just shut up and hand me that hollow crystal. We're almost done here."

...

Marik watched from behind Seto's leg as the army advanced toward them in a semicircle, weapons raised. A small black machine – looking to Marik like an oversized bowling ball with feet and a built-in machine gun – stepped out and took pride of place.

… _a Cannon-Creature, brought out in wartime to rid the Labyrinth of potential invaders that may have traveled from one of the many far away smaller regions to try to infiltrate the powerful capital…_

Atem hissed to the group behind him, "I'll draw their fire." Then he pulled on Apparition's reigns. The horse reared up on its hind legs, then charged directly toward the army as the cannon-creature started firing.

"Run!" Atem called. The first cannon ball was fired in with a deafening _boom_, and a house exploded just behind Tristan. The spooked ogre jumped, ducking to avoid the debris. Atem drew his sword swiftly and spurred Apparition forward as bullets sprayed out in the dust behind the galloping steed. He sliced the gun-like machine in half and barely managed to turn in time to parry an attack of an Elvin knight.

Meanwhile, Seto grabbed Marik – right out of Tristan's furry grip – and hauled him down the road to the right. The miffed ogre hesitated a second before taking off in the opposite direction. Six ninja-like goblins emerged from the army to chase after him. He cursed, ducking into a side alley and hearing the sounds of metal on stone as various shuriken narrowly missed their mark. One embedded itself into the wall a mere _centimeter _away from his nose! Sweat beaded on his furry brow as he saw the black-clad figures gaining ground. In a split-second fit of – what _he_ thought was – absolute genius, the ogre stopped, ripped the heavy wooden door off one of the nearby houses and hurled it, Frisbee style, at his pursuers. The thick plank hit its mark, slamming into the line of ninjas and sending them flying backward into a wall.

He pumped his fist in the air victoriously; "Sti–rike!"

...

Seto slammed the door of the ramshackle hut closed behind him. Not a second later, it shuddered powerfully as the weight of a something large hit it. The dwelling was surrounded by Bakura's knights, both Elvin and goblin alike. Seto could hear the pained whinny of a knight's horse every time the man rammed the poor creature against the door. The feeble chain lock would not hold out much longer.

Marik was over the other end of the small house, trying to shut the window while a mass of goblins tried to wriggle their way through the crack. Seto thought of helping him, but another shuddering jolt through his arms made him rethink the idea. He was needed to keep the bigger bullies at bay.

The blond boy finally managed to slam the window shut, nearly decapitation one of the goblins in the process. Another of the ugly little creatures had managed to wriggle through, and was now lying, dazed, on the floor from his sudden fall. He shook his head, glanced up and let an impish smile surround his face upon seeing Marik. He stumbled to right himself on his bony black legs and advanced on the young Egyptian. Marik came up against a low table, half way set for dinner. He groped at the surface behind him for a weapon. When the goblin extended its sharp needle-like nails and pounced, the boy grabbed hold of the first thing he could reach and brought it down on the goblin's head. There was a shattering of glass and the little mud-colored body hit the floor, covered in glass and cheep champagne.

"You okay, kiddo?" Seto asked, grunting as a powerful thrust from the other side of the door nearly caused him to lose his footing. One of the hinges shattered from the strain. Marik dropped the remaining half of the champagne bottle and took a few breathes to calm himself, looking about for an exit. There was nothing. Every door and window groaned under the strain of the goblin army's assault. No way out, except…

Marik knelt down, suddenly spying a fissure in the wood floor, just at the edge of the threadbare carpet. He moved the carpet aside and gazed down at the small, conspicuous looking trap door in the floor. Casting a speculative glance up at Seto, he said, "Does _everyone_ in the Labyrinth have some sort of aversion to normal doors?"

Seto rolled his eyes. "It's a _well_. Some of the more well-off commoners have a pipe and pump-system that connects the well at the centre of town to their houses."

"But… there's a ladder on the side, like the one in that underground cave with the Cleaner."

The door shuddered again, and Seto turned around, pushing his back against it. "Of course there is. There's probably one in the main well too. Someone has to do maintenance, you know. Kiana! Why are we even talking about this? Concentrate on finding a way out, would you?"

Marik eyed the well. It was too small for Seto to fit, but maybe…

"Marik, no!" Seto called as he saw the boy lowering himself down into the dark portal. "Get out of there! Don't be stupid! You'll drown before you reach the main well!"

The boy smiled. "I'll be back with help soon, okay Seto?"

Seto moved to grab him, but another tremor ripped through the door and he was forced to stay still.  
"Marik, don't," he growled. "I… I _can't_ lose you."

The boy's smile dropped. "I can't lose you either, Seto. So wait for me. Please." Then he was gone.

...

Atem screamed as the sharp blade of a sword sliced over his arm. The knight that was responsible grinned maliciously as Atem let his guard down. He then grabbed the injured arm and circled his horse around Apparition quickly; too fast for the Unicorn to keep up. There was a horrible snapping sound and Atem howled as his arm went limp, and his sword clattered as it hit the cobblestones.

The knights circled around Atem's helpless form, swords aimed at his throat as he panted from the pain.

"Well, if it isn't our old buddy, the Pharaoh." A new voice said as a large man clad in midnight black armor stepped forward.

Atem winced as he tried to regain his composure. He peered past the black helmet into ice blue eyes. But even without seeing those eyes, he knew who was speaking. No one else but his old apprentice would ever call him by such a title that referred to both prowess and pompousness at the same time.

"Hello to you too, Rafael," he said. "I see you've been promoted. Captain of the Guard now, is it?"

"Don't get smart with me, Atem," he warned. "Where is the Fairy Queen? I heard she was with you."

The pain in Atem's arm was numbing now, and it became easier to talk. "Well, I'm afraid you were misinformed." Then, in a lower, softer voice, "Although I have recently crossed paths with her, so your dobbing in my friendship with her those few years back did you no good in the end. I am still her friend, though it would not have mattered either way. She doesn't think of you… nor I… in that manner. She's not the type that needs men like us protecting her."

Rafael growled, "Shut up!" His sword came down on Apparitions back, slicing into the animal. The unicorn whimpered, its legs bucked, and it fell to the ground in a twitching, pain-ridden tangle of limbs. Atem, not being able to steady himself with only one hand, fell off the animals back and onto his own. He looked up the long polished edge of a sword, at Rafael's grimacing face.

'Ah, the pain of unrequited love,' Atem mused. He could see it there, just behind the knight's eyes, still burning diligently for their queen. 'There is nothing like it.' He spared a look up at the castle. 'Indeed, it is the cause of this entire mess.'

...

The tunnel was small; circular shaped, and perhaps half a meter large, at most. It was just wide enough for a goblin to crawl through.

Or a human child.

And it was dark, so dark that Marik had to feel his way forward, placing one tentative hand out at a time to ensure that there was stable ground ahead of him. His hand suddenly slipped on a patch of moss and he tipped forward. His face collided with slick stone and he could feel hot blood dribbling down his neck now from a cut on his chin.

Habitually wiping the blood away with back of his hand, the young Egyptian continued on, trying to control his breathing. He focused on the task of getting out of this pipe and finding someone to help Seto, instead of his innate hatred for dark, cramped places. He was not claustrophobic, he knew; otherwise, he would have gone mad during that brief detour into the oubliette. However, down here, with his own bloodbeat loud in his ears and the oppressive smell of mildew and stale air making it hard to breathe, he was beginning to feel more than just a little light headed.

It was dreadfully silent. The pipeline seemed to go on forever, the aluminum sheets that comprised its walls making all sound from above that much harder to hear. There was only the ominous slosh and gurgle of water somewhere up ahead.

Marik huffed out a breath as his knee scraped up against another loose stone. He put a hand out and suddenly there was nothing but air beneath him. His hand landed much lower than planned as the pipe took an abrupt downward turn.

A few feet away, further down, was an inky black pool of water.

"No," he breathed, dread seeping in. No, this wasn't right! The pipeline wasn't supposed to bend _downwards!_ There was no way to know how much farther he would have to travel in order to reach the well. He would never be able to backtrack fast enough if he entered that pool and found out that the well was much too far away for him to hold his breath that long.

It was a dead end. Marik could not turn around, as the pipe was too narrow. And he'd never make it to the castle in time if he tried crawling backward to where Seto was. He was trapped down here, 'six feet under' as it were.

This was it. This was the end of the line for Marik Ishtar.

...

It was hard to concentrate. It was always a straining activity for a fairy to focus their psychic powers. However, being born an elf and having attained only a miniscule amount of fairy blood when Mai bestowed her with wings, the metal strain inflicted upon Adina was double.

However, Adina's superior intelligence compensated greatly for her lack of magical ability. To keep up with other fairies, she had sought out the elders of the village and trained for hundreds of years under their tutelage, refining her power.

Twenty years after all her fairy friends had mastered the ability, Adina had learned to use her 'sight'. This meant that, upon closing her eyes and meditating, she eventually became able to see the realm of the Labyrinth in its entirety. A simple tweaking of her meditative state and she could see what was happening at the Labyrinth's outer wall. Another tweak and she could see Bakura in his throne room. Twenty years later, she had also learned how to view the human realm in this way. With this, all her fairy friends had completed their standard learning in how to use their power. But Adina did not want to stop. She pressed the elders to teach her more, and they complied, impressed with her determination. Two hundred years later, she had mastered the elder's famed ability to affect both the human realm and the Labyrinth by transferring her own thoughts – or the words spoken by others that she saw – to any destination she wanted.

Another hundred years later, she mastered a technique taught to her by the Fairy Queen, a technique that only the Queen herself and her cousin the Goblin King had mastered due to their immense power. She learned how to teleport someone from one realm to another. They tested the princess's newfound ability on the crippled old and disfigured village elder that was desperate to escape the tyranny of Bakura's rule.

That elder, Mr. Devlin, had no way of knowing that a mere six years after he and his four-year-old son Duke made their escape, that Bakura would catch sight of Marik Ishtar in his crystal ball. Mr. Devlin would never learn how kind a ruler Bakura could be when he was fueled by love instead of pain and anger.

However, Mr. Devlin's escape was costly. Adina was bed ridden for weeks after performing the spell, not being able to compensate for the sheer amount of magic the spell required.

She never attempted the Dimensional-Transfer spell again… until today.

The princess was half-aware of Mokuba watching her, as he had been since she had started her meditation. He was the one who had made her aware of the full details of the 'development' Vivian had mentioned on her last visit. There was a human in the Labyrinth, and the king was in love with him. And that human – she knew, thanks to the first ability she'd learned from the fairy elders – was currently trapped in the pipelines beneath the cobblestones of the Goblin City, certain captivity looming behind him and certain death ahead.

But Marik was going to lose the former option very soon, because somewhere else inside the castle, Emily Iioakire had just performed a simple Location Spell to find exactly where Marik was.

And she was planning to drown him with an equally simple Elemental Manipulation Spell.

It was now a race. Emily's plan to kill Marik vs. Adina's plan to save him.

Only Emily had the advantage because, unlike Adina, she was not counting on outside help… from a certain untapped psychic who was currently driving past the human realm's equivalent of this exact location…

...

Isis watched the ocean to keep her mind the worrisome thoughts clouding it. The road stretching alongside the coast was long, but they were nearing the end of it. The road dipped down here, coming closer to the ocean so that only a thin white guardrail separated Malik's motorcycle from the ten-meter drop to the sea below.

Malik squinted in the glare of the morning sun. "Hey, sis, are we close? All that's past here is the Othello pier and some old wheat fields."

"_Yes, you're close…"_ A voice echoed in Isis's mind and she gave a frightened shudder.

"Sis?" Malik asked again. He arched his head back slightly, and became a little worried at the vacant look on Isis's face. From his position, the tanned boy could see that her eyes were oddly half lidded.

"Who are you…?" she murmured dazedly. "You're different… You're not that man from before…"

Malik could not hear her words over the sound of the wind rushing by. "Isis? You okay?"

"_Perceptive," _the bell-like voice answered Isis. _"Who I am is not important now. What I will tell you is this; the man you have been hearing in your mind up until now is someone who wants to keep Marik by his side forever. And because of his selfishness, your brother is in grave danger now, and only you can help him…"_

"Only I…?"

"_Will you help…?"_

"Yes…"

"_Trust me, and I will take you to him…"_

"Yes. I trust you. Take me to my brother…"

"_Very well. Then let go…"_

"Sister!" Malik yelped as he felt Isis's grip on his waist loosen suddenly. The bike swerved with his lapse of attention and he quickly turned to right it. The sudden swerve helped her regain lucidity though, and her hands twitched indecisively as they curled in his jacket.

"_Let go… There isn't much time…"_

"But… Malik… said…"

"_Trust me…!"_

"You stupid daydreamer!" Malik growled. "I swear, you're worse than Marik sometimes!" He took the bend up ahead, the railing and seashore curling around them. "Dreaming about Mr. White Knight again, I suppose?"

Isis could not hear him anymore. All that filled her ears was the strange sloshing of water inside an echoing space, and the hazy image of Marik biting his lip in fear.

"_Come Isis… Help Marik complete his quest… Let go…"_

Isis's eyes glazed over, her pupils disappearing, lost amid the dark blue sea of her irises. She fully let go of Malik's waist, and the harsh winds lapping past carried her body backward and off the bike almost immediately.

Malik panicked at the sudden absence of her presence at his back. He whipped his head around just in time to watch his sister – head thrown back majestically, raven locks whipping about her face, eyes half lidded and dress fanning out dramatically – flying backwards through the air, almost as if in slow motion.

Then she disappeared over the railing, over the cliff, and dropped out of sight, into the tumultuous ocean below.

Malik, confused and scared for the first time in his life that he would willingly admit, unthinkingly jammed down on the breaks.

The bike's momentum and speed was too great for the sudden stop. The bulky machine tripped over its own front tire and rolled over on itself down the road before it burst into a pile of billowing flames.

...

Vivian Wong ran across the dilapidated plaza, towards the well that stood at the heart of the goblin city. In her hand was a vial containing a luminous pink liquid. The well was a truly gaudy piece of architecture, she thought. Very plain, it looked like no more than a great man sized pipe sticking out of the ground. Although, to mark the importance of this particular 'pipe', there was a small circular ring cut into the concrete around it that also gathered a small amount of water during downpours. From this miniature moat rose a myriad of stone carvings of fairies, dragons, goblins and other smaller fantastical creatures that were native to the Labyrinth. Vivian had heard that the well was once laced with gold, polished to gleaming, with marble paving all around it. Carved, ivory pillars once surrounded its rim, supporting a domed roof that was inlaid with so many precious gems that it positively _sparkled _in the sunlight. However, just like the rest of the goblin city, time had worn away the well's beauty. After the disappearance of the previous king, Bakura had ruled with an almost tyrannical nature, leaving little money and resources for the restoration of the goblin's derelict houses, let alone the extravagant well.

Vivian hopped over the small 'moat'. She eyed a headless stone carving of a fairy and the wingless dragon beside it, its eyes hollow from where jewels were once inlaid.

She leant slightly over the rim of the well, peering into the shallow muck far below.

"This is defiantly going to be different," she sighed. She had never used magic before. However, should this succeed, the Harpy Lady had promised her a variety of spells; spells that would ensure she would never have to stoop to being a concubine or a prison guard again.

She uncapped the vial and poured the liquid into the well. It made a pathetic splash that did not live up to Vivian's grand ideas of what magic should look like. However, not a second later, a fantastic beam of lilac colored light erupted from the well. Many of the goblins stopped fighting to view the spectacle, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. The water in the well was no longer murky, but a pure crystalline blue. Vivian smirked, leaning on the rim of the well, fangs bared. Now _this_ was more like it! She could see the bottom of the well now though the clear water. There were many pipelines in the lower half of the well slanting upwards and away, leading to various houses.

Marik was in one of them. Vivian licked her lips, enjoying the child's plight. She held a hand over the water, commanding it in a loud, authoritative tone, "Rise!"

The water, incredibly, began to rise. Its molecules reproduced at a rapid-fire speed, and Vivian threw her head back and laughed at her new power.

...

Marik could not backtrack fast enough. The water was rising rapidly, rushing into the pipe in a fast, cutting current. The young blond barely had enough time to grab a lungful if air before he was completely immersed in cold blue. He threw out a hand, clasping for some sort of stable surface and his fingers scraped on a jagged piece of upturned metal before he managed to get a firm grip. Wispy red ribbons trailed from his fingers, lost almost immediately in the harsh pull of the water. Dragging himself forward, Marik struggled against the current. But his vision was beginning to go hazy. He could not hold his breath much longer. At least now the water was clear, and he could see that he only had a meter or so to go before he reached the main well. But the current was too strong. That last meter seemed like a mile.

It was at that last moment, just as his vision blurred and his grip on the rough surface of the pipe went slack… just as he let loose his breath and slipped into unconsciousness…

A hand grabbed his.

...

Isis had not had any time to prepare herself for the hellish scene into which she had just appeared. One second that voice was saying 'trust me' and she was flying backwards, off a cliff, seeing the sky and ocean from an all-new and terrifying angle…

And the next moment she was here, immersed in water and looking down a dark tunnel at her struggling, _drowning _baby brother. His grip went slack and she panicked, bracing her knees on either side of the pipe opening – her dress going taught and thankfully providing _some_ modesty – as she stuck her upper body into the pipe and grabbed Marik's limp hand a split second before the current carried him away.

Pulling him to her, Isis looked up at the surface of the water, now level with the rim of the well. She swam as fast as she could. Marik needed air _now!_

...

The door shuddered. Seto shuddered with it. He shoulders hurt, pinpricks of pain travelling through them every time that damn persistent knight rammed his entire weight against the other side of the door.

But Seto knew how not to feel pain. He had trained himself for years now in the fine art of how _not_ to feel petty things like physical pain or exertion. His sole inspiration for that training was to avoid letting his cruel stepfather have any advantage over him.

However, this quest with Marik had taught Seto an unwanted lesson. It had taught him that no physical pain, no matter how brutal or cruelly inflicted… could ever hurt as much as when someone emotionally wounded you.

Seto thought that after everything he had gone through, everything he had endured so far in his long life – losing his sister, his old friend, his freedom – that nothing else could possibly top his previous grievances.

He was wrong.

The water that filled the well shaft in the centre of the cabin came so high that it actually flowed out over the floorboards and sloshed around his feet violently, like a wave on the beach.

'There's no way Marik out-swam that,' he thought, face paling. 'There's no way he could have survived!'

That lapse of attention caused his grip on the door to slacken, and on the next thrust, the relentless knight on its opposite side smashed it inward, throwing him clear across the room.

"Hey there! Knock, knock! 'Bout time you answered." A skinny redhead dismounted his horse and entered the room. His hands were perched on his hips and his uniform was not what one would call 'standard issue'. He wore a tight black belly shirt and thick-soled boots under his baggy pants. Lastly, he wore a trench coat over everything that resembled Seto's a little too much.

"Alister," Seto growled, trying to get to his feet, only to discover that he had twisted his ankle in the fall. "What are you doing here? I thought you were out exploring the outskirts of the Labyrinth.

"What can I say?" He shrugged. "I heard there was some interesting stuff happening back home, and I've always been a stickler for action." His gaze turned serious. "Word's really spread about how you've taken this human 'under you wing'. Planning to hand him over to the Goblin King, just like you did with Mikey and me? Because of you, I can't even tell which goblin my brother was turned into! They all look the same! And now I even have to _serve_ to creature who took my brother from me!"

"You didn't make it to the castle in time," Seto said in a logical tone.

"You sold me out! Left me to rot in that oubliette until I ran out of time!"

"You weren't smart enough to defeat the Labyrinth anyway. I _saved_ you, putting in a good word of how you'd be useful in the army."

Alister snarled, drawing his sword. He said, "I'm not going to let you betray that child like you did me. I'll make sure he finishes the Labyrinth!"

Seto bowed his head. "It's too late," he whispered. "He's already dead…"

Alister's eyes narrowed. "So, the great elfin traitor strikes again. But I'll make sure there _won't_ be a third time…"

...

It had been the overflowing water that had saved Atem's life.

When Rafael had taken a step forward to land the finishing blow to the wounded knight, a sudden rush of water had swept across the cobblestones like a miniature tidal wave. It swept the large man off his feet and gave Atem enough time to deliver a paralyzing chop to a particularly sensitive nerve in the neck. He dropped like a stone, unconscious, with his face planted in ankle-deep water. The other knights converged on Atem quickly after, but Apparition had managed to regain some strength by then, and it charged at them in a blind rage, scaring them away.

Now, after tracing the flow of water to its source, all the while tugging Apparition along by the reigns so as to not hurt his precious unicorn further, all Atem could do was stare.

The well had finally stopped overflowing, but the cobblestone floor around it was covered under four inches of water. A body lay off to the side, a woman by the looks of it, unconscious from the strenuous toll that magic took on the bodies of those not born with the ability.

However, it was the two figures in front of the well demanded the most attention. They were both soaked, hair and clothes clinging to their forms. The tanned young girl kneeled over Marik's prone body, crying into his chest.

Atem approached warily, kneeling beside her. He lifted Marik's wrist to his mouth and closed his eyes, as if to press a kiss to the delicate skin below the boy's palm. The girl watched him with wide eyes, tear leaking down her cheeks.

Suddenly, Atem's eyes flew open and he shoved the woman off Marik, quickly kneeing over the child to seal his lips against the boys. Isis watched the display with shock. A minute ticked by, and she suddenly found her voice as she hauled him off her brother.

"How dare you - !" she started, but she was interrupted… by Marik's coughing. The boy rolled onto his side and coughed up water, chocking slightly as he caught his breath. Atem rubbed his back comfortingly.

"You…" Isis breathed, a relived smile covering her lips. That man had not been _kissing_ Marik's wrist. He had been looking for a _pulse_!

…And he had found one.

"Oh, my brother! Thank Ra! You're alive!" Isis pounced on Marik, hugging the surprised boy tightly.

"S-sister?" He stuttered. He looked to his side. "And Atem…" He gasped, catching sight of the knight's blood-soaked arm and Apparition's crimson-stained pelt. "You're hurt!"

Atem shook his head. "Fear not. It is not the worst of injuries I have ever sustained."

Isis let her brother loose from the hug, but kept a firm grip on his hand.

"Thank you," she said, "for saving me brother. I was never taught CPR. I wouldn't have been able to…"

The knight smiled. "No thanks needed. Marik is a valuable friend to me." He took her hand and kissed the back of her wrist. "I am Sir Atem Mutou, knight to his majesty, the Goblin King. And you are…?"

Isis could swear she felt her throat dry up. It was a knight. An honest-to-goodness white-horse-riding, sword-carrying knight!

"I…uh…" she groped for a sentence, something to make herself sound more impressive, and something to display just how honored she was to meet this man...

"This is my sister, Isis," Marik said. "She's a huge fan of medieval stuff, especially knights."

Isis went to speak up, but shrieked when she saw the stumpy little black figure of a lone goblin running past. "What _is_ that?"

The goblin spun, saw the trio, and immediately began shouting, "I found them! I found them! All guards to the square! The human and the rouge knight have been located!"

Atem cursed as he stood up. So far splitting up had kept all the goblins confused, but now they were closing in again.

"Marik, we have to move!" he said. The boy nodded, then a flash of realization crossed his face and he looked behind him. "Seto! He's trouble! We have to save him first!"

Atem nodded. "Of course. Lead the way."

The three left the square just as a horde of goblins arrived there, hot on their trail.

...

Tristan had come out of his hiding place in an alcove when he had heard the shout of the goblin, claiming to have found Marik. Now, Tristan would be the first to admit to being a docile creature by habit, but they were about to hurt his little hero and that just would _not_ do!

He was running now, knocking down any unfortunate goblins to cross his path. A knight tried his luck, charging at Tristan, but – unlike those ninjas from earlier – his spear was his only weapon. The ogre saw his opportunity, grabbed the end of the spear, and used it to hurl the knight off his horse and into the nearest wall.

Never slowing down, Tristan bounded over the fallen knight, rounded a corner… and nearly collided with Marik.

The young boy stepped back at the last minute to avoid smashing into his friend. His face lit up. "Tristan!"

"Little buddy!" the ogre went to lift the boy onto his back, but Isis jumped between them with her arms outstretched in a protective gesture.

"Get back, you monster!" she warned.

"Wait sister," Marik said, pushing her arm down. "Tristan is my friend." He looked up at the ogre seriously. "Seto's in trouble. Please, Tristan, I need you to call the rocks while we go help him."

Tristan smiled. "Anything for you, Marik." Then he threw his head back and let out a _howl_. His whole diaphragm shook as the ground beneath their feet rumbled, pebbles jumping up from the concrete.

Everyone stopped. Knights all across the city lifted their heads to discern where the ungodly noise was originating from while goblins plugged their ears and wailed in pain from the assault on their sensitive hearing. Then, suddenly, the doors of the goblin city were flung apart and hundreds of huge boulders came thundering into the city, crushing anything and anyone in their path. They rolled down every alleyway _except_ Marik's, heeding their master's – Tristan's – wishes.

Marik did not stay to see the new battle forming between Bakura's forces and the rocks. He and the others took off down a near side street that Marik remembered taking with Seto earlier. There, at the end of the street, Marik could finally see the house coming into view that he knew Seto was hiding inside. It was still surrounded by knights. But there was something different now, something that made the young Egyptian's blood run cold.

The door was open … and there was blood on the doorstep.

...

Seto had made a valiant last stand when Alistar had brought his sword down to deliver the final blow. The elf had rolled quickly to the side, standing despite the pain lancing through his ankle. But he couldn't stand for long. So rather than hold his ground and wait for Alistar to charge at him, Seto ignored his throbbing ankle and lunged at the knight to the left of Alistar, taking the man by surprise and forcing him back out the door. They both landed in a heap on the doorstep, the knight's head colliding with the brick and knocking his out. Not wasting any time, Seto grabbed the sword from the man's limp hand and swung it around in a sleek ark, slicing through Alistar's legs, causing him to fall too. Blood sprayed from the wounds, coating the doorstep, and Seto barley managed to roll out of the way as another knight brought his sword down, trying to stab it into Seto's neck.

Seto swept his good leg under the knight, effectively knocking him off his feet. But there were more of Bakura's lackeys behind him, far too many for Seto to defeat alone.

Alistar lay in a bleeding heap, but he was still conscious.

"Kill him!" he growled to the other knights. "Don't just stand there, _kill him!_"

One knight sprang forward, knocked the sword from Seto's hand and hoisted the elf up by his collar. He raised his sword, aiming for a clean stab through the heart, and Seto stared up into cold eyes, awaiting death.

Then, suddenly, the knight was gone, bowled off his feet by an absolute angle who was dripping wet and growling in anger.

"Don't you dare hurt my friend!" Marik screamed as he landed on top of the man. The knight's helmet flew off and Marik quickly saw the opportunity, landing a swift punch to the man's jaw, knocking him out.

The last two remaining guards went down in a similar manner as Tristan came up from behind them and smashed their heads together.

"Marik…?" Seto's voice was raspy, disbelieving. "You're alive?"

Marik climbed off the knight's chest and raced to hug Seto. The elf was slumped on the floor, dirty and exhausted.

"Of course I am!" Marik said. "I'm so sorry I didn't get here sooner!"

Then Seto did something that astounded everyone there. He brought his arms around Marik and clutched the child to him in a tight hug, laying his head on the boy's shoulder.

Alistar stared. "What the hell is this? You stupid human! What's wrong with you? Don't you know he's going to leave you for dead, just like he left my brother and I?"

Seto tensed, but Marik did not move, did not let go. He looked over Seto's shoulder at Alistar and said in a perfectly calm voice, "Seto's already had that chance, but he didn't take it. And I know now that he'd never do anything to hurt me." Marik smiled, truly and happily. "After all, he's my best friend." The boy shrugged sheepishly. "Well, aside from Joey of course. But then again… I've never felt this safe with Joey."

Alistar's eyes went wide in shock before the great amount of blood loss finally took its toll and he passed out.

Seto pulled back from Marik, searching the child's eyes. He fought back a myriad of thoughts, the most prominent of which was, oddly, 'Must eliminate this Joey person'.

"You…" he swallowed. "You… really mean that?"

Marik nodded, and then his face turned grim. "But we can discuss all this later, 'kay? Right now, we have to save my brother and your sister."

Isis gasped, looking about. "Oh goodness! Mokuba! Where is he? And what's all this talk about a rescue?"

"Like I said, I'll explain later." Marik helped Seto to stand, while the elf scrutinized the flustered female.

"And who is this?" he asked.

Isis moved to reply, but her eyes suddenly grew half-lidded. She gazed at Seto and Marik, her expression blank.

"Marik," she said, and her voice sounded like an odd mixture of Isis's voice and another, much younger one. "I am truly sorry, but with my limited power, I can no longer keep your sister in this world without having her become stuck here. She will have to return to your realm now."

As the words were spoken, Isis's body began to disintegrate, to vanish into thin air…

Seto moved to shield Marik, growling, "Who are you?"

'Isis' smiled fondly at the elf. She said, "I am very happy you have finally learned to care for others, big brother."

Seto gasped, realization dawning.

"Adina?" He asked tentatively. The girl nodded and, seconds before her body disappeared completely, she whispered, "I'm waiting in the dungeon, big brother. Please, come rescue me soon…"

And then Isis – and Adina – were gone.

...

Isis woke up to someone slapping her across the face. It was a rude awakening to be sure, but when she saw who was leaning over her, she could not say she was at all surprised by it.

Malik's mouth was a tense line. There were cuts all over his face. A thin line of blood ran from the cut high on his cheek to the point of his chin. His jacket was dusty, with patches of crimson on it, and his pants were completely ripped at the knees, providing a view of blood encrusted knees.

He was also soaking wet.

"My goodness, Malik," she breathed. "What _happened?_"

His eyebrows rose clear into his hairline and he snorted. "'What happened', she asks! You let go of the bike, take a flying leap into the damn _ocean_, where I spend nearly fifteen minutes _looking_ for your sorry ass, thinking you're dead already! And you ask what happened? Why the fuck did you let go of the damn bike, sister?"

"I-I-I don't know!" Isis said, perplexed. Her eyes widened at the sight of the smoking wreck just over Malik's shoulder. "You… crashed your bike…"

The boy huffed. "Well, you disappeared over that cliff so fast; it wasn't like I had time to slow down and make a damn U-turn." Then he looked her over, assessing her body. "What I don't get is how you cleared three meters of rocky shoreline and somehow managed to end up in water that was deep enough for you to not crack your head open on bedrock when you landed." He glanced at the cliff, as if it was responsible for his confusion. "Plus, you were out there for a while. Any normal person would have drowned, but you were okay. I didn't even need to do CPR, _thank Ra_."

Isis looked in the direction Malik was. She honestly could not remember what had made her let go of the bike. All that filled her mind was fragmented remnants of a strange dream… A dream about Marik.

"I dreamt about our brother," she said quietly. Malik did not look at her, showed no sign that his thoughts went anywhere beyond watching those storm clouds advancing over the horizon. Salty tasting wind swept past them both, ruffling Malik's hair and causing Isis to shiver in her wet clothing. She went on, "I dreamt Marik was in a place crawling with creatures that looked like they were from Hell itself. He was bleeding and drowning when I found him, and then he said he had to rescue Mokuba from somewhere."

Malik expected her to look scared when she turned back to him, but she looked… oddly comforted.

"Anything else I should know about your… _dream?_" he asked at length.

"Marik had friends in it," she said. "A tall monster with a nice personality, a man with pointed ears, a unicorn, and…" a small smile crossed her face as she looked down at her hand. "And a knight… A very handsome knight with a gentle touch."

Malik snorted. "Okay, thanks, I'll file that dream away for future blackmail." He groaned as he got to his feet. "Well, what is your psychic radar telling you now?"

"Nothing," Isis replied, surprising herself. The little tug at the corner of her mind had all but vanished. "But... I still remember where it was leading me. It is not far from here. Should we … keep going?"

Malik shrugged off his jacket, revealing cuts all along his shoulders that were smeared with blood. He held it out to her, the only thing he could offer to keep her warm. She donned it thankfully, wincing slightly at the feeling of another person's blood on her skin.

"I'm game if you are," Malik said finally.

Isis nodded. "Then let's be off."

...

It did not take long for Marik and the others to make it to the castle. The rocks had done most of the dirty work, knocking knights and goblins off their feet long enough for the human and his trio of friends to duck past them and continue forward. They arrived at the castle steps and – while Atem proved that he still had enough fight left in him to take down another cannon creature – Tristan heaved open the huge pair of stone doors that gave entry to the castle.

They were finally here.

They left Apparition outside, Atem having almost ripped his tunic apart completely in order to supply a bandage that would be large enough to fit around the unicorn's body. He tied it tightly and, after glimpsing Marik's worried expression, assured the boy that his steed wouldn't die from such a minimal amount of blood loss.

Atem himself had also acquired a 'sling' of sorts. Marik had ripped the whole bottom of his brown shirt into strips that would bandage and support Atem's broken arm. Marik's cuts were also now healed, thanks to Seto's magical handkerchief; the same one he had used on the boy back when they had first met.

Seto watched from his new perch, cradled in Tristan's arms. Amazingly, the ogre had come out of the fight without a scratch. His 'punishment', as it were, for this good fortune, was to carry the lame Kaiba in a typical bridal pose. Tristan _wished_ he had been shot instead.

Marik looked ahead at the long line of arches that extended down several corridors. Every pathway looked the same, but Seto pointed to the one on the right.

"The throne room is that way," he said.

"How can you be so sure?" asked Tristan.

Seto rolled his eyes. "Because, I used to _live_ here."

There were many twists and turns on the route Seto had chose, but the elf lead them with confidence, and after running up the final flight of stairs, they emerged into the inner sanctum of the castle; the throne room.

Had Marik the time to marvel, he would have taken in the grand expanse with great reverence. This was the place where his favorite character of his most beloved book wiled away the hours. Needless to say, Marik had read the chapters featuring this particular room many times over.

However, this was not the time to gawk. Instead, Marik searched the room for one thing in particular, and gasped in dismay when he found it. The ornate bronze clock on the side of the room showed that it was barely five minutes until 13'oclock.

"I'm almost out of time," Marik breathed.

"That way," Seto said, pointing at a doorway off to the left with a staircase that curved upward and out of sight. "Only the king has ever been allowed in that wing of the castle. My guess is that, if he's waiting for the final confrontation, he's waiting up there."

Marik nodded. He turned to ascend the stairs but stopped a few steps up, looking down at Atem, Tristan and Seto. The former two were following him automatically, but Seto was squirming in Tristan's arms, casting glances at a door off to the left. Its stairwell led downward and, if Marik were the type to, he would have bet money that following that path lead you straight to the castle dungeon.

"Wait guys," Marik said. "I… I can't ask you to do this with me. It's _my_ job to rescue Mokuba. Seto… you need to go rescue your sister from the dungeon."

"Marik... I…" the elf started, but he could not think of anything more to say. 'Thank you."

Marik nodded with a small smile.

"No way," Tristan said firmly. "I see where this is going, and it's not gonna happen! I'm not letting you face the Goblin King with only a wounded knight for protection!"

"Actually," Marik murmured, "I was proposing that you take Atem with you. Think about it; Seto's the guide, Tristan's the legs, and Atem can deal with whatever gets in your way…while I distract the king up here."

Seto blanched. "You would face that madman on your own?"

"He's not mad," Marik said, gaze downcast, "at least not in that sense. He may be upset with me now, but he has a good reason. I hurt his feelings."

Tristan snorted. "That guy has no feelings. Just an hour ago, he tried to blast you to smithereens! If it weren't for Mai – ayeayeaye! Atem, get off my foot!"

The knight calmly removed his steel-toed boot from Tristan's toes, confident that the ogre had gotten the message of not divulging Mai's current state to Marik. He cleared his throat. "Very well Marik. We will follow your plan, as it is the most logical. But…" Here his voice took on a more protective note, "Should you need us…"

Seto turned in Tristan's arms, his loyalties still torn, but wanting more than anything to follow Marik right then."Yes… should you need us…"

"For… any reason at all!" Tristan added quickly.

Marik nodded, understanding completely. "I'll call." Then, he turned his head, clenching his eyes shut, trying to fight the sudden onslaught of hot tears that leaked down over his cheeks. "Thank you! Thank you all! So much! I…" He looked up at them, as if trying to burn the image into his memory. "I… I'm so glad, and so lucky, to have met you all!"

Seto left his perch in Tristan's arms and used the wall to keep himself upright as he leaned over and wiped Marik's tears away with his thumb.

"No, kiddo," he said in a whisper. "We're the lucky ones…"

He offered his arm, a glint of gold visible beneath his brown work shirt. "It really wasn't a fair payment, after all."

Marik shook his head, and then leant up, planting a light kiss on the elf's lips. "Give it back to me later, after this is all over, 'kay? Promise me, please…"

Seto smiled; a tiny, gentle smile. "I promise, Marik." Then he motioned to the stairwell. "Now, go win your brother back."

Nodding, the young Egyptian turned and continued up the stairwell. At the very top, he paused, gave them all a small, confident smile…

And then Marik Ishtar – the only person ever to come this far in the test of conquering the Labyrinth, the only person ever to win affection from the notorious black-hearted Goblin King, the only person to ever manage to touch the hearts of creatures all across the Labyrinth – was gone.

Years after that final, painful goodbye, Seto would sit alone in his new cottage in the Fairy Village, staring out the window. Out on the grassy, glittering lawn, Tristan the ogre would give his little sister Adina piggyback rides while Atem the knight and the Fairy Queen Mai would sit nearby locked in conversation. However, as many times as the elf stared at them as they went about their daily routines, he would never really see them. No, instead he would see sun-kissed bronzed skin, shining flaxen hair, and innocent amethyst eyes…

And he would think to himself, "If only I'd gone with him…"

**Next chapter: Marik finally faces off against the all powerful Goblin King. **

**Now, let me clear up a few matters. If you are like me, and by the end of the chapter you were screaming, 'Where's Bakura?", well, I missed him too, to be honest. But this part of the movie doesn't centre around him, and – as you all know – he's hella pissed off right now. By keeping him completely off screen, I'm trying to show that. Next chapter will be centered on him and Marik though, so get ready for some more boys love. FST will be up soon too. Oh, and anyone worried about the sad little peek into Seto's future should know that this story will have a happy ending. I can't do sad endings. My motto is that "reality is sad enough sometimes". Don't you agree?**

**Well, as always, I hope you liked this chapter, and please review if you did!**

**Haha. It was actually my 100****th**** reviewer "****the harlequin demon" that inspired me to get off my ass and finish this chapter. If you come across her, be sure to say thanks. **


	14. Thirteen o'clock

**Oh my God. Over a year. You guys have no idea how sorry I am. The worst part? This chapter has pretty much complete for the last four months, but there were two scenes that just refused to be put together. However, the original last chapter was about two pages long and exactly like the movie, so a lot of rewriting was needed to wrap everything up. Although the ending was still the same in my original draft.**

**Okay, so that's no excuse. But you guys should at least know that '2nd Labyrinth' is well on its way, and there is a trailer for this fanfic on YouTube. That is, if anybody is still reading it ^-^;**

**I want to send a big thank you to all my reviewers, especially to all the new reviewers who read it and reviewed even though it looked like it had been dropped. And to all the old reviewers who are still around, I promised you guys I would finish it and I will. It might take another two years (though I will try to not let it get that bad) but finish it I shall. **

**Most of all, I want to both say "thank you" and "I sorry" to my reviewer "One Percent". She once called me her favorite author and this her favorite story. I doubt both are still true, since people's tastes change over the years, but she welcomed this story back with open arms after a two-year absence before and I am praying that she is as forgiving this time. So "One Percent", this chapter is for you.**

_**1st Labyrinth…**_

**Chapter 14: Thirteen O'clock…**

"If only I'd gone with them…" That was Marik's first thought when he arrived at the top of the staircase. The very sight of this new room – no, this new _maze_ – unnerved him, made him want to turn tail and run back down into the safety of his friends' arms. In fact, he had already taken half a step backwards before he realized what he was doing.

"No," he said. "This is no different than anything I've faced up until now. It's a maze, and there is _always_ a correct pathway hidden in a maze. I just have to find it. Mokuba is _counting_ on me to find it…"

Taking a deep breath, Marik looked around the room. It was a positively _cavernous_ space; vast, deep and high, and filled with hundreds of stairways and ledges that were placed at odd angles. Arched doorways disappeared into the walls at odd intervals. Some were upright, situated at the centre of two converging downward staircases. One doorway that Marik saw was sideways, accessed by a pathway that, if a person were to follow, would leave them standing on the ceiling. Some doorways were upside-down, the curved 'ceiling' of the stairway beyond looking like the slippery-slide from hell.

And there, hanging from the ceiling above a fifty foot drop, inside a small iron cage and curled up in a tight ball… was Mokuba.

Marik called out to him across the wide cavern, screamed as loud as he could, "Mokuba! Mokuba, I'm here now! I'll save you, I promise!"

"_He can't hear you,"_ Bakura's voice echoed in his mind again, just the same as it had before this whole ordeal had started. _"He's unconscious. The spell has been put into effect already."_

Marik paled.

"…Spell?" He looked from side to side. "Where are you, Bakura?" Teeth clenched, fangs bared, Marik barked out, "You tell me what you've done to my brother!"

Marik suddenly found his arms stapled to his side by a strong forearm that looped around his chest, whilst another arm looped around his chin in a tight headlock. A gust of warm breath ghosted over his ear.

"Now, Marik," Bakura said icily. "I already told you that no one orders me around." Marik felt the grip on his neck tighten and he gasped.

"_No one,_" Bakura hissed.

"So-," Marik rasped, his lungs screaming for air. "Sorry t-to break _tradition!_" He shifted his weight and jabbed his heel down on Bakura's foot.

The king did not even flinch.

Marik felt sharp teeth nip at his ear, biting hard enough to draw blood. He whimpered in pain.

"Oh yes, mortal," Bakura whispered in something akin to masochistic ecstasy. "You see now, don't you? You see now what I am truly like… Did you really think that you could beat me at my own game with that handful of pawns that you managed to gather…?"

With air coming slowly to his lungs and his vision swimming from the loss, Marik was suddenly feeling the full weight of his challenge to Bakura. Magical powers aside, Bakura was strangling him with his bare hands; strong hands that were fresh to the battle whilst long hours of trekking through harsh, hostile terrain had pushed Marik to his physical limit.

…_pushed to your limit…_

Illusive and fleeting as they were, those words, that snippet of memory, helped clarity returned for a brief moment. Once again, and possibly for the last time, Marik found himself being saved by the words of his favorite novel back home – the novel that started it all…

"I... chagh..." Marik gagged, scrapping at Bakura's arm to try to loosen his grip. He scraped the skin below the king's pale shirtsleeve and specks of blood soaked into the fabric, but Bakura's hold did not loosen. "…allenge…. you!"

Bakura's eyebrows rose and he finally let go of Marik, letting the child slump to the floor.  
Marik held his throat as he coughed and gulped down air.

"Pardon?" Bakura said in mock politeness. "I didn't quite hear that."

Marik panted, lifting himself to his knees, and then standing slowly. "I… I said I… ch-challenge you," he turned, clenching his fists at his sides, "to a _duel._"

Bakura blinked at him a few moments, something turning in his gut as he caught sight of the reddened flesh of Marik's throat. He banished the feeling and instead threw his head back in a sinister laugh.

"You can't be serious!" He smirked, fangs glinting in the low light. "Well, I shouldn't be surprised, I suppose. I mean, you did read that book close to twenty times over."

_The Labyrinth is full of mazes; of walls that move and shift and lead you in circles, of goblins who pose illogical questions to hinder you, of trap doors that send you spiraling down into a hellish environment where only the damned have trod…_

_One could use this logic to justify that the Labyrinth itself is essentially a single gigantic, albeit one-sided, game. And, as with all games, there is always a solution to be found if one looks hard enough._

_However, of all the games and puzzles, riddles and tricks that the Goblin King has at his disposal, there is one 'game' – the ultimate game – in which he cannot cheat._

_This game has been passed down through generations of royals; **The Shadow Duel.**_

_You see, dear reader, inside the heart of everyone, Labyrinthian and human and goblin alike, dwells a creature that is shaped by the nature of that person; a good monster from a good soul and a wicked monster from a wicked soul. Most lower class Labyrinthians are not even aware of the existence of these creatures. The very first Goblin King, however, did know of these creatures, and devised a way to bring the beast out of his heart as a means of protection against those who wanted his crown. Before his death, the ancient king passed on this secret to his son. The knowledge has been instilled within the royal bloodline ever since._

_This is all that I am at liberty to tell you. This and one other thing._

_If all hope is lost, and you find yourself pushed to your limit and staring down the Goblin King with no way out, then you must challenge him to a duel… _

…_for he cannot decline. _

"Very well," Bakura said seriously. "I accept your challenge."

The king lifted his arms, fingers cascading through empty air in a move of sweeping grandeur. Small blue lights materialized in the air, twining around his fingers, gathering in his palms. Marik blinked, and just like that, Bakura was holding two shining rectangular objects in his outstretched hands.

"What…?" Marik looked on in awe. The air was warmer now, tinted with the scent of lavender, and accompanied by a humming noise that caressed Marik's ears, the same sight and sounds flooding him now as they did all those hours ago when he first said those fateful words…

The Goblin King was humming now, and Marik closed his eyes and luxuriated in the low tenor.

The humming stopped and Marik opened his eyes again to behold a beautiful sight: Bakura was _glowing_, a soft golden light surrounding his features that made his half-lidded eyes look like pools of melted ruby. His hair and clothing floated around him, silver locks and black leather adding to that otherworldly beauty that the king alone seemed to posses.

Marik could not remember how long he had dreamed of beholding a sight like this.

'My favorite character is using magic before my very eyes…'

The light died, vanishing as it was sucked into the two shining objects in Bakura's palms.

'… and it's only because we are about to fight… to the _death_…'

Bakura stood before him now, arms still outstretched.

"Choose your weapon, sir," he said jokingly, a hint of an ironic smile showing.

Marik reached out an uncertain hand to hover over Bakura's right palm. As he moved to touch the object, a spark of purple-black lightning shot out from the glowing brick and singed his hand. He retracted his fingers quickly, inspecting them.

His palm was blistered. His fingers were bleeding, the wounds from his stint in the Goblin City pipelines reopened.

Bakura smirked, amused.

He looked at the king's left hand. Slowly, tentatively, he reached out again. This time, he felt a warm pulse, like a faint heartbeat, beneath his fingers. He closed his hands around the glowing object and picked it up. It morphed in his hand, the shape expanding until Marik's fingers were wrapped around something resembling a pipe.

When Marik saw what it was, he blinked.

A… rod, of some kind. Golden, with an eye at the top and batwings branching out from it.

Bakura smirked as a new type of energy began to pulsate around him, a darker energy. Marik gasped and stumbled back as thick, black tendrils erupted from Bakura's left hand and snaked themselves quickly around his body. Slowly, slowly, the Goblin King disappeared behind a wall of liquid-like smoke. But before those red eyes disappeared completely, his disembodied voice gave a sinister laugh.

"_Thank you_… for the _curse_."

Then the smoke seemed to cave in on itself slightly, before exploding outward in a wave of energy that knocked Marik of his feet and carried him backwards into a wall. His back hit concrete and he gave a startled cry before falling to the floor.

"Well," Bakura's voice came again, suddenly an octave lower and very close by. "This is disappointing. You're down for the count and the duel hasn't even begun yet."

Marik pried his eyes open to see a pair of tan shoes and thick, bronze legs, with a golden anklet wrapped about one calf. Marik's eyes widened as he followed the legs up to see a dark blue kilt wrapped below tight abs, and a crimson red cloak hanging precariously on broad shoulders.

"Who… who are you?" Marik bolted into a kneeling position. "Where's the king?"

The male threw his head back and boomed a laugh. Short, dirty-white locks fluttered about his head and a pale scar on his right cheek twisted with every minute change of expression. A large golden ring adorned with seven sharp pointers hung from a rope around his neck.

Then amethyst eyes – so similar and yet so different from Marik's own – opened to stare down at him.

"Foolish mortal. I _am_ the king," he said. Then he smirked. "My father didn't mention _this_ part of the duel, did he?" He took a step forward and Marik ducked to the side, holding the rod out in front of him threateningly.

Bakura laughed again.

"You don't use a Millennium Item that way, Marik." He cupped his hands around his own item. Suddenly, Bakura's shadow seemed to wobble beneath him, taking on a life of its own at it stretched out behind him, detaching from the ground and enlarging to form a terrifyingly monster-like silhouette.

"Diabound, come forth!" Bakura's voice echoed throughout the chamber, washing over the shadow's form and somehow transforming it into a thick, solid creature with burning red eyes and a large mouth full of sharp, misshapen teeth. It was massive, and this was probably the only room in existence, Marik thought, that was large enough to hold it.

"Well…?" Bakura tapped his foot.

Marik nodded. 'Right! I can do this! I _have_ to do this!' He risked a glance upwards. '…For Mokuba's sake.'

Gripping his own Millennium Item, Marik concentrated on thinking of a scary monster to aid him. What he ended up picturing was Isis during PMS. And while yes, that was scary, it was not quite the angle he was going for. But the image was soon wiped out by something else…

A growl emerged from somewhere deep within his chest, tapering off into a screech, and Marik suddenly realized that he could feel something actually _pulling_ him backwards. Turning around, he saw that _his_ shadow was expanding too, rising up behind him in an enormous bird-like shape.

"_Call it_, Marik," Bakura whispered with something akin to pride lacing his voice. "If you are truly meant to be a part of this world, then it will accept the name you give it…"

And just like that, there were words on Marik's tongue that were heavy in a way that regular words never could be. He just had to think of a name to accompany them…

The creature behind him screeched and writhed, and Bakura's beast roared and sneered in response. Two great powers stared each other down; like a God and a Devil.

'A God…' The thought churned in Marik's mind, and he glanced behind at his creature. 'I need you to fight as best you can… I need you to be my salvation… I need you to save me and my brother! Can you save us?'

The great shadow shrieked in assent.

Marik's voice rose to meet it, calling out his summons, "Then _arise_, Winged Dragon of Ra!"

Light flooded the room, branching out from Marik's monster as the beast's features filled out.

Marik did not need to look in order to know what his creature looked like. He already knew.

Gold would cover its enormous body, the color akin to Marik's hair.

An orb of lapis lazuli would be imbedded in its forehead, as striking as Seto's gaze.

Lastly, its eyes would be red. Blood red, like Bakura's had been only seconds earlier.

Ra was Marik's monster; it was him and it was his best friend and it was his savoir.

And now they were going to fight together.

…

In the dungeon, pieces of brick crumbled from the walls as the entire castle above shook on its foundation.

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear," Adina was saying as she ran. Running in front of her was Atem, who used the guard's confusion to his advantage as he took them out one by one.

A piercing screech echoed through the corridors and Seto, still being carried like a newborn by Tristan, slammed his hands over his sensitive ears they began to ring.

"What the hell is that?"

"Don't know," Tristan said. "Doesn't sound like anything I've ever heard."

"It's happening," Adina whimpered. "I can feel it. The king's magic is pulsating throughout the entire castle. But it's so odd! It's like the magic is coming from two separate entities!"

Atem cast a worried look back at them. "You don't think…?"

Even Tristan, who had no experience with magic, knew what he was insinuating.

"_Marik,"_ Seto growled.

Atem turned back to face the oncoming squadron of guards. "That means it's begun! The final battle has begun!"

"It _can't!_" Seto screamed. "It just _can't!_ We're _stuck _down here! We can't help him!" He thumped a fist against Tristan's chest and buried his face in the ogre's shirt.

Tristan felt the cloth becoming wet, but he did not say anything.

…

"Pinnacle Shockwave!" Bakura commanded, and Diabound brought its arms together, conjuring up a dense ball of blue energy in its palms. A second later, it released that energy in a blinding flash. It burned a white-hot path in the stone floor, barreling towards Marik with all the force of a runaway train.

Marik gasped, barely managed to call out, "Ra!" before everything went white.

Bakura gave a satisfied grin as he watched smoke bellow about the room. Where Marik had been standing was barren, a charcoaled and pot-marked section of floor being all that remained.

"You don't put up much of a fight," the king laughed quietly. Then his smirk dropped and he screamed, "DIABOUND, MOVE!"

His beast swerved to the side a moment too late.

A blast of golden energy came from behind, sliced across Diabound's arm. Bakura felt it too, a searing pain that made him feel as though he had just stuck his arm in a kiln. He gasped, and then bit his lip so hard that blood dribbled down over his chin.

Diabound stooped over, and Bakura got a chance to look over its shoulder at the presence he had felt just in time.

Marik stood atop Ra's golden shoulder blade, one hand resting gently on the beasts face. Both were panting. Both were bloody. Both had obviously narrowly escaped Bakura's last attack.

But both looked determined as hell.

…

Malik managed to keep his footing, but Isis did not.

He stumbled and bounced on the balls of his feet as he ran, but she went down like a lead balloon, tripping over her own feat and scrapping her knees and palms on the rough gravel of the road.

Malik stopped, cursed, and tried to help her up without falling himself.

It seemed as if the whole world was shaking on its foundation.

The wheat in the vast fields beside them was quivering with the tremors, and the sky was eerily dark now, thunder crackling on the horizon and thin splinters of lightening streaking through the sky.

Malik's eyes narrowed. "Something is wrong. It's far too early for it to be this dark." He checked his watch.

And the color drained from his face.

This… this was some kind of trick! That was his watch, but the face of it was glowing a ghostly golden hue. Moreover, the time was…

'…Three minutes to thirteen o'clock?'

Beside him, Isis lifted her head and gasped.

"Malik…"

Malik looked down at her, his voice softened with shock. "What…?"

Isis pointed to the sky. Malik followed her finger.

Nothing. At first.

Then a flash of lightening illuminated the sky and Malik saw it: big, gargantuan beast-like shapes. They dived into one another, clawed and ripped at each other during every brutal collision.

Malik growled, not liking the fact that he was clueless in such a situation.

"Yeah," he said. "Something is defiantly wrong."

…

Marik gritted his teeth as Diabound's massive form ripped past him. Ra's movements were slower than Bakura's beast. Marik knew he had the disadvantage.

"Pinnicle shock wave!" Came the loud command.

Marik pressed his body closer to Ra's and yelled, "Bank right!"

Ra dived to the side as black-blue energy ripped open the air centimeters from Marik's face. A spark of electricity grazed Ra's shoulder, and Marik felt it rip through him like a hot knife.

…_**A hot knife… pain… and Rishid's voice saying, "No! Get away from Marik!"…**_

'No,' Marik thought with a growl. 'No reminiscing. Bakura is my opponent now.' He jolted upright, gripping firmly onto Ra's armor. "We have to win! God Blaze Cannon!"

The attack was faster than Diabound's. It burst from Ra's mouth as if something unearthly had pulled the attack from the creature. Marik felt the drain as energy was siphoned from both him and his beast.

'Please let this work,' he thought. 'Because I'm not sure if I'll be conscious after this to get off another shot.'

A second too slow.

That was all it took; the fact that Bakura was a second too slow.

The blast ripped through Diabound's shoulder, taking the entire left arm with it. Bakura screamed in agony and Marik took his chance.

"Now… Phoenix Mode…" The command was weak, and Marik felt more tired than he had since the start of his journey, but Ra obeyed.

The Egyptian God spread its wings and climbed higher into the air. Its cold golden exterior seemed to melt into a skin of pure fire. Marik felt the heat, a new burn on the surface of his skin to match the burn of the overworked muscles below.

Ra was high in the air, and Marik saw Mokuba across the cavern and the shock on Bakura's pain-ridden face below.

And one word spilled from the child's lips.

"Dive…!"

Ra pulled its wings in and shot downward like a blazing comet, ripping through the air and plowing right into – and then _through_ – Diabound's stomach.

Bakura and his beast screamed in unison, fire alighting on both their skins before Diabound vanished, along with Ra's new form.

Then Ra slowly began to dematerialize as well, a final victorious cry dragged echoing throughout the maze.

Marik screamed as the ground rushed up to meet him.

…

Malik watched one of the great beasts fall to the earth as they ran, full pelt, down the last stretch of road.

Isis was crying, the moonlight illuminating the silvery tracks that dripped freely down her cheeks.

This time, Malik did not have to ask what she was crying over.

They had both heard Marik scream.

…

The Millennium Ring hit the ground first, clinking noisily, and then the Rod, which produced a much deeper sound.

Marik felt his hands slipping; both the hand gripping the crumbling rock ledge, and the one clasping onto the unconscious Goblin King's shirt.

At least Bakura was back to his normal pale and _skinny_ self, Marik thought. He did not think that he could have held onto the tan Bakura for half as long.

Crimson eyes opened slowly, and widened as Bakura comprehended his predicament.

Marik felt the strain ease, and Bakura's words, unnaturally soft, floated up to him.

"You can let go now."

The boy did so, and watched as Bakura levitated up and past him, landing gracefully on the ledge.

For a split second, Marik had a vision of the Goblin King crushing his hand beneath his shoe, ending the game once and for all. But Bakura stooped down and lifted Marik up to stand beside him.

The second they were both on solid ground, Bakura's body began to glow – a soft blue tint that was far less threatening than the last time. A small orb, no bigger than a marble, emerged from the king's chest. He looked at it, resigned, as the glow faded.

"Your prize," he said. A flick of his wrist, and a small silver chain began to grow from the orb until it became a pendant. Marik eyed the new creation warily as it floated up to fasten itself around his neck.

His hand rose tentatively, running over the smooth glassy surface.

"What –?"

"Half of my power," Bakura answered tonelessly. "A prize predetermined for anyone who defeats a Goblin King in battle." He turned away. "Now get going. You're half way there with a minute left. Good luck."

Marik's eyes widened. He glanced up at Mokuba, his feet moving on their own. A minute left! Half way there! No time to waste!

But… Bakura…

'No! There's no time!' Marik berated himself. He quickly turned and fled up the nearest staircase. 'Don't think about what you're leaving behind! Think about what you have to do! Just run! Keep running until you reach Mokuba!'

Bakura watched as Marik ran further and further out of his reach.

…

Glowing green liquid sloshed inside a clear crystal orb, and talon adorned fingers clenched around it.

…

Marik kept an eye on Bakura as he traversed the maze. He watched as the Goblin King moved into a lazy sitting position. Marik had sometimes seen painters and poets sit that way on the bank of the river in the park back home, looking like they were pondering the meaning of life itself…

A haunting chime filled the air, so light that Marik was sure he was hearing things, until a low ominous beat joined it. Bakura's eyes were trained on him as he began to sing, in a voice so riddled with emotion that it sent chills down his spine.

"_How you've turned my world, you precious thing,_

_You starve and near exhaust me,_

_Everything I've done, I've done for **you**,_

_I move the stars for no one."_

Marik watched the king. This… wasn't another trick. This time, Marik had no problem moving his legs, or thinking logically. No, this was… This was Bakura… baring his soul. And Marik wanted to listen. He had waited _years _to listen to this...

"_You've run so long, you've run so far,"_ Bakura sang on, _"You're eyes can be so cruel,_

_Just as **I** can be so cruel."_

He stopped there, but Marik knew that was not the end. He had read that song a million times in the Labyrinth book. It was an ancient melody, a lullaby of sorts, which told the story of two lovers dying in each other's arms.

Marik was naive about most adult concepts, he knew. But even he knew what it meant for Bakura to be singing such a song right now. The clock was ticking, so Marik began running faster, taking a new upside-down stairway, ducking through another inverted arch. Unthinkingly, he hummed along.

All Labyrinthian songs must be disguised magic incantations; Marik realized, because as he ran, pathways rose to meet him, doors rotated to let his pass safely, stairs carried him further upward on their own. All the while, he was getting closer to the cavern's ceiling… closer to freeing Mokuba.

And then, he began to sing. He needed Bakura to know, now, before he finished the Labyrinth, before they said goodbye forever, just how much the king meant to him.

"_Though, I do believe in you,_

_Yes I do…"_

One glace at Bakura revealed the shocked expression on the king's face. Marik went on, his voice echoing beautifully across the cavern, _"Live without your sunlight!"_

Bakura stood up, leaned back against the wall, head back, throat exposed and eyes closed as he savored the moment. He took the next line, _"Love without your heartbeat!"_

Marik reached the last pathway, which ended neatly at the open doorway of the cage that held Mokuba. He ran to it, the seconds of the clock ticking away, joining Bakura as they sang the last line in perfect harmony.

"_I…I can't live… within you…"_

Bakura hung his head, defeated. Marik dived through the cage, hand outstretched…

Just as an enormous bolt of white-hot lightning struck the chain that held the cage in place. It seared through the metal and Marik screamed as he, and Mokuba, plummeted towards the earth.

Bakura shouted, "No!"

And then all Marik saw was darkness.

…

He awoke to a voice that he had been sure he would never hear again.

"You're a fool, you know," Mokuba's childish tone commented. "How long do you think your magic can last on such a powerful spell? Even _you _can't keep time frozen forever, Bakura…"

The Goblin King's voice was week, pained, "I'll keep it frozen as long as I have to."

Marik lifted his head, his eyes opening blearily. He was sprawled on top of a large portion of the same sandstone pathways he had been running along just moments before. But the slab of rock ended about five meters in every direction, dropping into a sudden swirling abyss of red and purple shadows. It looks like the sky had fallen and lay bruised and bleeding below them.

"Oh. You're awake," Mokuba said, turning around. "Hello, Marik."

"Mokuba…?" Marik murmured confusedly. Then his eyes took in the scene and he went pale. Mokuba's skin was a brown color, with a shiny, leathery look to it. His nose was a foul snout and his now brown hair stuck out demonically. His eyes were still human, but they were the wrong color: an exotic brownish-green. "Oh, please no…"

Mokuba put a hand across his face. "Oh! No, Marik, please don't look! I'm _hideous._ I'm a goblin now. _He_ made me a goblin." The youth pointed an wrinkled accusing finger at Bakura, who was tied up only a few steps away. He was glowing with an unearthly luminosity, sweating with exertion. And yet, he did not look like he was trying to break free of his bonds. He looked like all his energy was devoted to something else entirely. He lifted his eyes, met Marik's, and said in a pained voice, "Don't… listen…"

Mokuba pulled a strip of cloth from his pocket and gently fastened it over the king's mouth. Bakura did not waste energy in fighting Mokuba off.

"Don't mind him, brother," he said. "We're almost done. That's all that matters. As soon as you take my hand, we'll be transported home. Doesn't that sound good?"

Marik narrowed his eyes. "Where are we?"

"The Shadow Realm," Mokuba answered too calmly. "A hellish void existing between the realm of the Labyrinth and the human realm. This place is ruled by black magic, forbidden magic. The king is weak here. It takes all his energy to cast a single spell. We should be grateful to whoever brought us here. And we should leave now, while we have the opportunity."

Marik looked at his brother's outstretched hand and then back at Bakura. The snippet of conversation he had heard upon waking was repeating over and over inside his mind. Mokuba wouldn't call anyone a fool, and he certainly wouldn't know as much about spells and different types of realms as he currently did. But… maybe he had changed during his stay in the Labyrinth, on the inside as much as the outside...

Was this really his little brother…?

"Mokuba," Marik started, inching towards the boy slightly. "I'm glad you're safe. I'm sorry you went through this and I know how much you must want to go home. But, just hold on a few seconds longer, okay?" He turned his attention to the kneeling king. "I can't leave this place until I know Bakura is alright."

He started toward the Goblin King, the monarch's surprised eyes trained on him. Mokuba growled and ducked in front of him.

"No! Don't get any closer!" he warned. "He's dangerous! You have no idea what kind of sick, twisted things he tried to do to me!"

Behind the half-goblin, Bakura's eyes blazed with an angry fire.

Marik looked down at the boy, at the way he was so desperately scared of Marik going near Bakura. But… that wasn't the way trauma worked. If a person hurt _you_, then _you_ were the one who was afraid to go near them. Marik knew this. Marik knew that he would never have turned his back on his father the way Mokuba was doing with his 'attacker' now.

"You're lying," Marik said angrily. "Mokuba wouldn't act like this! Who _are _you!"

Mokuba's surprise showed for a split second, before his mouth melted into an unholy smirk. "Well, seems that I've underestimated you again, human." The boy quickly extracted a switchblade from his pocket. "Things would have been so much easier if you'd just followed the script. It's not too late, you know. If you grab my hand now, both you and your brother can go home. Otherwise…" He flicked out the blade and it glinted a heartless gold in the dim light. "I'll take great pleasure in carving your heart out in front of my love, then erasing those painful memories from his mind."

Marik blanched, looking between the two. "Your… love?"

'Mokuba' laughed. "That's right; we haven't been formally introduced, have we? My name is Emily Ioakire, and, well, I'd love to show you my real face, but Labyrinthians don't do so well in the Shadow Realm." Her eyes narrowed, irises glowing briefly. "We aren't like you _humans_."

The word echoed in every direction.

"Worthless creatures," Emily went on. "I supposed that's why most Labyrinthians look down on you. It really does take a filthy race to produce so much maliciousness throughout history that a whole other _realm _is born to contain it." She walked over to Bakura, bringing up a hand to stoke his face gently. "Isn't that right, darling?"

The Goblin King growled and jerked his head away. Emily frowned and drew the blade across the skin at his neck. A red line appeared, thin as a paper cut, and oozed blood in a shiny red trail. He let out a pained gasp then, and the glow surrounding him dimmed slightly.

"Oops, don't lose your concentration, now," she teased.

"What's that glow?" Marik asked warily.

"Hmm?" Emily turned to face him again. "Stupid child. One would think that after reading that book so many times, you would know something like this. He's buying you time."

"…Time?"

She smirked, holding up a single finger. "Officially, you have _one second_ remaining on the clock. That is all. And Bakura is keeping that second there for you, stopping time, giving you this last chance to save both your brother and yourself."

She swung around and kicked Bakura in the stomach. He coughed up blood and the glow flickered dangerously.

She looked over her shoulder at Marik, deadly serious, and – for just a moment – he could have sworn he saw a crying, winged woman where Mokuba's body stood.

Emily went on, pulling a small green crystal from Mokuba's other pocket, "And every second he spends performing this spell takes his power down a notch. And now his power is low enough that he won't be able to counter _this_ spell."

"And what's that?" Marik asked, looking at the orb.

"A spell to forget," Emily answered sadly. "That's why I can do _this_," she slashed the knife down Bakura's arm, creating a shallow bleeding wound and causing the man to cry out into the gag. "And _this_," she plunged the blade into his upper arm and he let out a muffled scream. Blood spurted out, covering the knife, and Mokuba's clothes. "This is why I can make him pay for hurting me, for taking my devotion for granted!" She stopped, and took a moment to compose herself. "Because, you see, this spell will take away his every memory of the last thirteen hours."

Marik eyes grew wide as the realization set in, "No…"  
Emily smirked. "So, you _are_ smart enough to know what that means. He won't remember having ever brought you here. He won't remember anything that transpired since then. All he'll know is that when he wakes up, his devoted Emily will be there to comfort him. I'll tell him how his dear beloved Marik was killed by a bunch of common human thieves, and that while he was in shock over it, some low-class rebels waged war on the castle, broke in and," another slash of the knife and another low hiss of pain, "… _wounded_ him."

Marik paled. A growing sense of dread told him that Emily had three specific Labyrinthians' names in mind…

Emily finally stepped away from Bakura, "But first, I have to kill _you_."

She was fast. She crouched down and then sprung forward, muscles coiling and releasing like a well-oiled machine. Marik ducked to the side, hissing as the knife's blade sliced through his shoulder.

_**A dark enclosed space… Ropes binding his hands… A faint blood-red glow from across the room… And his father's low, emotionless voice saying, "Hold still."**_

Another slice of the knife, this time just over his clavicle, ripping a hole in his favorite shirt. Marik almost tripped over himself, running backwards, always dodging a second too slow as Mokuba's body advance on him, thrusting the switchblade at him relentlessly.

Another swipe, and Marik cried out, deep red splashing across his vision. He fell back, landing in a crouched heap, looking down at the red line stretching across his chest, visible through his ripped open shirt.

Emily caught sight the blue sphere around Marik's neck, swaying just above the fresh wound. She growled, turning on Bakura.

"_Half _of your magic?" she asked. "So he really _did_ beat you." She turned back around, staring Marik down. She seemed to shake with rage and unhappiness all at once.  
"You don't deserve such a gift!" she screamed. "You, who rejected him! You, who can't… Who won't_ ever_ love him as much as I do!"

"But I do love him," Marik said.

Emily started, her confusion easily noticeable in Mokuba's soft features.

Over in the corner, Bakura's eyes widened. He blinked once, and just like that, nothing else seemed to matter. Pride, race, gender, age… And even the fact that time was slowly running out for the both of them. None of it mattered, because right then... they were just two people in love. And the Goblin King had never been happier.

"I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner," Marik went on seriously, talking more to Bakura, taking advantage of Emily's sudden muteness.

"I should have told you how I felt sooner," he went on. "But I knew that saying it… would just make me sadder… that I can't stay."

Bakura could not speak, but he knew that if he could, he would again try to convince Marik to stay, using the same old lines: 'Be selfish, forget Mokuba and your family. All you need is _me._'

But now Emily was here, and anything Bakura said to incite her would only end in Marik's death.

Bakura was glad he could not speak.

Said girl brandished the knife again, vehement. "Little liar! Sucking up to him won't save your skin now!"

"It's not a lie!" Marik protested, struggling to his feet. "I've never…" He paused. "I've never felt this strongly about anyone before. Since I started reading about the Labyrinth, I always thought of the king as my friend! Bringing me here just made us that much closer!"

Emily's irises contracted, and she screamed out, "Shut up! You aren't any closer to him than I am! I've been by his side for thousands of years! I don't –" She chocked on her words, something that sounded like a sob issuing from her throat. "I don't understand… How can he like you better! How can you be so precious to him?"

Marik glanced at Bakura. "You're right… We aren't close. But… I love him anyway; as a friend, and as someone very special in my life. Someone irreplaceable. No, I don't really know him, not as anything more than the Goblin King." Suddenly, there was a prickling behind his eyes. He turned away, fixing his gaze on the floor in order to hide it. "That's what made completing this maze so damn hard! The fact that… I'll never… get the chance to find out… how close we could have become." Tears brimmed at the corners on the boy's eyes, but none fell. He looked back up, straight at Bakura, with flushed cheeks and clenched fists and a chocked voice.

"I'd like to think that if I stayed here, then I'd have learned at least enough about Bakura to love him… as himself… As more than the Goblin King… As a real person."

Emily realized it a split second before Bakura.

She laughed.

"So I've been worried for nothing!" Her shoulders shook. "All this time, we all thought that it if Bakura could make you love him, you'd stay!" She shot a pointed look at the unhappy king. "But it never mattered either way, did it? Your mind is set on going home, no matter what your feelings for him are."

Bakura lowered his head.

Everything fell into place.

"_**Look, Marik, Turn the crystal this way and gaze into it. It shows you your dreams…"**_

"_**How do I get my brother back, Mr. Bakura?"**_

Marik always considered his dreams less important than his family.

And love was a kind of dream, right…?

Bakura lowered his head. This was… not what he had expected. Marik loved him… but circumstances would not allow their love to flourish…

Emily looked back and forth between the two. Then she smirked.

Shifting closer to Bakura with that scary sharp blade in one hand and that scary green spell in other, she dragged the point of the blade down Bakura's cheek. She drew blood, and the newly torn gag slipped down around his throat.

He looked up at her, with that same lost gaze that she had seen on him a million times over the years. She had seen it when his father left, and when he thought Mai was plotting against him, and when he had first discovered what it meant to be in love.

"I don't understand," he whispered brokenly, almost angrily. "If he loves me… then why am I still in pain…?" The aura around him flickered again, and weakened. Perfect.

Emily drew her hands around him in a half hug that was hindered by the items she held. "It hurts, doesn't it? I felt like you once… I felt like I was only half-alive… But then Gozaburo gave me a way that we could be together…"

Bakura's eyes opened wide, "Gozaburo –!"

"I'll heal you," Emily whispered one last time.

Then, quick as lightening, she brought the knife between them and plunged it into the king's stomach.

Bakura screamed, loud and raw and the glow around him dimmed and almost died completely.

Blood spurted out, over both Mokuba's and Marik's forms. The latter felt warm wetness splatter over his cheeks.

"Bakura!" Marik screamed.

Emily laughed as the king slumped forward, sprawling out over the floor.

Then Emily stood, held the green sphere before her reverently.

"_Sands of time and eternities' flow,_

_Turn back the clock and make this so,_

_Thirteen hours since has gone, _

_Whence children came where they don't belong._

_Words to summon the Goblin King,_

_Naught but disaster did they bring,_

_Hence let every memory that brought us here,_

_Be sealed inside this Crystal sphere!"_

Suddenly, the sphere in Emily's hands was alive, with green beams of light that flared up around it, then branched out, and shot towards Bakura's still form. The king watched the oncoming light with half-open, pain filled eyes.

"No!" Marik screamed. One step, then another, and Marik's adrenaline was running higher than ever before. He lunged for the sphere, a kneejerk reaction that told him any plan of action was fine as long as it _stopped that spell._

The world seemed to slow down in those few seconds as the light closed in on Bakura.

Emily turned, saw Marik, and made a desperate attempt to stop him by plunging her knife into his thigh.

Marik felt a burst of pain that was worse than anything his father had ever done to him. It ripped at his senses and tore at his nerve endings until he did not even realize that he was screaming. The boy's knees buckled and he tipped forward, thrown off balance by the attack. But, before he fell, he managed to grab a small, slim wrist and drag it along with him.

Bakura watched it all in horror as a shadow fell in front of him, and Marik and Mokuba were completely immersed in a sea of green just before that very sea washed over him too.

It was barely noticeable when the white light around Bakura dimmed just that little bit more… and then died completely.

…

The first thing Marik saw when he opened his eyes was the sky; it was a natural pale blue color today. Marik had seen this same sky, this same color, almost every day of his life.

…So he was not sure why seeing it now made him so happy.

The air was warm, and the earth slightly damp. The tops of wheat plants around him swayed gently before his eyes, water droplets dripping from their tips.

Marik sat up slowly, every muscle, vein and artery screaming in protest. His head throbbed in a way that made him feel nauseous. His shirt clung to him uncomfortably, and it was only when he looked down that he realized why. His clothes were in shreds, uneven ends sticking to his body using blood as an uncouth adhesive.

"How…?" His voice was horse and nothing made sense. Had Zygor done this to him? He glanced to the side, and his gaze caught on a dark lump amongst the wheat. He tried to get up and investigate it, but a sharp pain jolted through his leg, forcing him into an odd crouch. His left thigh felt hot. Too hot. And when he looked down, he was almost sick at the sight.

His shoulder was sliced, and his chest had a shallow cut across it, just below his clavicle. But his leg was something out of a horror story; all thick, dripping blood and ripped red-tinted skin, with a knife at the centre, dug in to its hilt.

There was a pricking behind Marik's eyes. A kind of 'why me?' feeling tugging at his mind until the tears finally forced their way out. He sat there for a few minutes, head bent, and tears falling into the wound.

Then he heard it.

"Marik!"

Rusting wheat, and footsteps on dirt.

"Mokuba!"

The dark lump a few feet away stirred.

"Marik!"

He felt a relieved smile cover his face.

They were looking for him. Mokuba and _him_.

…

Isis sneezed, and tried to draw the jacket tighter around her shivering form.

"Shit woman, don't stretch my jacket!" Malik growled.

"But it's cold and your jacket is too thin!" Isis said. "Maybe if you called out as well, we'd have found them by now."

"Hey, the only calls I make are on my cell." He swung the little black phone by its strap as if to illustrate.

"Then phone Rishid! Ask him to come pick us up! Anything to make yourself useful!"

"Why you -! Don't get all uppity with me, Miss Psychic! You owe me a new motorbike, don't forget!"

"Don't hold your breath for one," Isis grumbled, a sharp shiver travelling through her drenched body as the wind picked up. "I wasn't the one who crashed it…"

He sighed. "Oh well, the paint would have gotten ruined in that sudden freak storm anyway…"  
"Yes," Isis mused. "I… I'm not sure what kind of storm that was… Perhaps electric? Perhaps the lightening messed up our brains and that's what made us see…"

Malik gave her a _look._ "You hear voices in your head and swear they're real… but the big Godlike shadows in the sky that I saw too, you deny?" He shook his head. "And people say I'm the one with the problems."

Isis could not resist. "Insanity would explain your sudden fixation with a watch you've had for years." Then she sped up her pace, awaiting the inevitable declaration of murder from her brother.

Something wrapped around her ankle, stopping her in her tracks. She froze, and her face drained of color. Slowly, she looked down.

"Hey! I am _not _crazy! Having three counselors does _not_ make you crazy! Just _special!_" Malik stormed past her. "And it _glowed_ I tell you! It glowed freaky gold and plucked an extra hour out of its ass!" Silence. He turned. "Hey, are you listen–"

Isis's eyes were wide, tears leaking freely over flushed cheeks, her lips drawn up in a disbelieving smile.

Malik followed her gaze downward and met with a pair of relieved Amethyst eyes, a shade lighter than his own.

"Well fuck me sideways," he said, breaking out in a twisted grin. "We found 'em."

…

A twelve-year-old boy sat on a bench under a tree in the middle of Domino Park. White linen bandages – wrapped around his left shoulder and right thigh – were partially visible under his pale lavender t-shirt and dark shorts. His gaze was glued to the grass at his feet, but every few seconds, it would drift to the seat beside him. Then the branches above him. Pause. Back to the seat. Then the branches. Pause. Seat. Branches.

For a few moments, Joey did not understand what was wrong with the picture. This was the way he always found Marik, but something seemed off. He supposed that it was because he had never seen Marik look so fidgety. He usually had something to occupy him, something that drew him into his own private little world…

Realization dawned, and Joey could not suppress a gasp.

There was no owl on the seat. No 'King', as Marik called him.

…And there was no little red book in Marik's hands.

…

"No recollection? Nothing at all?"

"It was… very powerful magic, my queen."

…

Marik lifted his head at the sudden loud intake of breath.

"…Joey?"  
There was a pause, as both boys stared at each other across the grassy expanse.

"Hey, Marik…" Joey's voice was subdued. "Where's… where's your book?"

Marik flinched, then smiled and replied, "In a drawer at home."

"I see… And your… 'King'?"

Something achingly sad flashed across the Egyptian boy's face. He gave a last forlorn look at the empty seat beside him. "Not coming, I guess." He patted the spot with a small smile. "Guess that means that you don't have to fight him for it this time, huh?"

Joey quirked a small smile in return, moving to sit. "Yeah… Guess so."

…

"But my cousin remembers everything!"

"He does, milady. But that is only because of Marik. The young Prince may have been transported back home when he grabbed his brother's hand, but the transportation took long enough that the king was spared from Emily's spell."

…

Almost three weeks had gone by since Joey had shown up at Marik's house with an invitation to play and instead been directed to the hospital by a homicidal-looking Malik, who tried to tell Joey about all the wonderful ways there were – in this state alone! – to kill crooks, gang members, and knife-wielding idiots in general.

It was not until Joey had arrived at the hospital that he had been told the story in full.

Marik and Mokuba had been missing for an entire day, until they were found at around 9 o'clock in the morning; out in a cornfield that was over _an hour_ drive away.

Missing, for thirteen straight hours… and Joey hadn't even noticed.

The boy slapped a palm to his head.

"And what, pray tell, did you do that for?" Marik asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No reason…"

An operation to remove a knife from his leg. Stitches. Bandages… Constant questions directed at the entire family from the Chief of Police little over a day later…

"No reason…" Joey sighed, dragging his palm down his face. "Just… I should have been there…"

"No, Joey," Marik said firmly. "Wherever I was. Wherever Mokuba and I were… You should _not_ have been there."

…

"And what of Marik's brother…?"

"The same as Marik, but only by a stroke of luck."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when Emily was hit with the spell, she forgot her involvement in everything. And, as a result, forgot the spell she was using to possess Mokuba. The two split just in time for Mokuba to be transported home with his brother."

"And now Emily is locked up with Gozaburo… It seems almost cruel. I can hear her crying from here. She does not realize why Bakura is treating her like a criminal so suddenly."

…

Joey clenched his fists in his jeans. "I'll make 'em pay. Whoever took you out to the middle of damn nowhere and messed ya up."

"It… wasn't _nowhere_." Marik's voice was dazed, his features pained. "I can't remember a thing, but…" He reached past the neckline of his shirt, drawing out a small pendant for Joey to view. Heavenly blue, it twinkled in the sunlight.

"When I woke up," he said, "I was wearing this."

Joey became uneasy. "Hey, shouldn't you throw it out then? Who knows what it is!"

Marik shook his head, tucking the item back under his shirt. He held a palm over it. "No… Whatever it is… it makes me feel like wherever I was, it wasn't all bad." Then he let his hand fall and said, "But one thing I know even without the pendant… is that it wasn't _nowhere_."

Joey hesitated. "Are you… gonna be okay, bud?"

A ball suddenly bounced off Joey's head. He looked upward to glare at the culprit… and his jaw dropped.

…

"And… my cousin…? How does he fare?"

…

Malik was looking at Joey with an annoyed expression, prompting him to return the throw. A few yards closer, Isis stood with her hands still up in the air, as if just registering her failed attempt to catch the ball. Behind them both, resting under the shade of a tree, was a content Jason Trait, his wife sleeping with her head on his lap and Mokuba curled up against them.

When Joey saw Rishid cresting the hill, laden down with ice creams off all sizes, he turned his dumbfounded expression on Marik.

…

"For once, his majesty and Kaiba lie in agreement… That this is all for the best…"

…

"Oi, Mini-me! You've rested your sorry ass enough!" Malik called. "So grab your retarded friend and get over here! The girl can't play worth shit!"

Marik rose from his seat and bestowed Joey with a small smirk.

"Yeah, Joey," he said. "I think I'll be okay."

…

"…Because Marik's happiness is the most important thing… to both of them."

…

Professor Arthur Hawkins watched the buildings of Domino city rise into view. Without removing his eyes from the road ahead, he reached a hand over to the youth sitting next to him and gave the boy a gentle shake.

In the passenger's seat, a young olive-skinned boy, near thirteen years of age, stretched his arms out as much as he could in the cramped space. His jade-green eyes lazily peeled open, black hair falling messily over his shoulders as, with every jostling motion of the car, more and more strands slipped from his once perfect ponytail.

"We there?" He half yawned.

"Yes, Duke," said the Professor. "So you had better hide those wings!"

Casting an annoyed glance over his shoulder, Duke Devlin arched his back ever so slightly, holding the pose until the leaf shaped wings – the same wings common to every other creature born in the fairy village – seemingly dissolved into thin air.

"Don't forget, Professor," the boy said, "those wings are the only reason you have these." He jingled the bag in his lap and a golden puzzle, the shape of an upside-down pyramid, poked out from a tear in the top.

"Oops!" Duke pushed the item back in, hearing it clack noisily against its six counterparts. "But still, it wasn't easy sneaking into the treasury and grabbing these. Even with your teleportation and cloaking magic. I seriously don't think I would have gotten out of there intact if the King wasn't bedridden…"

"Bedridden…?" A slim white eyebrow rose in question. "_My_ son…? Goodness, what happened?"

"A fight," Duke said. "A big one apparently. The whole Labyrinth was talking about it! Apparently, the king was brought back from the shadow realm by one of his servants – some harpy girl. He was covered in blood and had a big hole in his stomach that the healers were going nuts over. I heard that he woke up just before I left, only to sentence the girl who saved him to life in the dungeon."

Arthur looked concerned, a hand stroking his beard. "I'm certain Bakura will heal. The magic in his bloodline will see to that. But… Sentencing a woman to the dungeon just for saving him? Are you sure you've got the complete story?"

Duke shrugged. "No idea. I did hear that just a few minutes before, the king was testing some kid to see if they could beat the Labyrinth. And apparently they did. Someone who was 'very brave and very pretty' beat the entire maze, they said. That person is practically a living legend now!"

The professor took one hand from the wheel and pulled a worn leather book from his pocket. Worse quality that the ones he had commissioned for sale, it was black in color, with the word 'Labyrinth' written in flaking gold along its spine.

"So, someone beat you, did they…?" He whispered to it.  
"Yeah," Duke answered in place of the book. "And a human, no less!" The fairy threw a cheeky grin the professor's way. "But they say that's only because the king was lenient. They say he made things easier because he was in love with that human."

"In love, you say…" Professor Hawkins mused. "I think, young Mister Devlin, that I have just been inspired to write a sequel…"

_To Be Continued…_

**So that's "1st Labyrinth". And "2nd Labyrinth" is on its way. Please review, if only to tell me you'll be sticking around to see the sequel. **


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